


Die Flügel der Freiheit

by eren_writes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/F, Face-Fucking, House Cleaning, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Slow Burn, Stranger Sex, Swearing, eren choking on dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 159,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eren_writes/pseuds/eren_writes
Summary: Hi. My name is Eren Yeager. I'm an average student – average looks, average grades, average life. Well, mostly. There was one small aspect that set me apart from my fellow students. My weekends are not spent partying and boozing at a friend's house or swatting up on my studies. You'll find me in the company of rich (often married) men, performing acts too impolite for a blurb in exchange for money. This is the story of one such encounter and the series of events that surrounded it.





	1. First Impressions Are The Most Lasting

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking a moment to view my work. It took quite a bit of courage to post and I've been putting off publishing while I finalised some details/worked up the guts to make it public.
> 
> I'm waiting for my editor to finish up the next chapter. Hopefully it will be available from sometime next week.
> 
> If you liked it, please consider leaving a kudos. If you have any thoughts then I would love to read your comments! Feedback is always appreciated, whether it's praise or constructive criticism. 
> 
> I will add to the tags as the story progresses so as not to give away what to expect!

“You're a little younger than I expected.”

“And you're shorter than I expected.” I fired back, quick as anything, leaving the only time to think about consequences after I'd already spoken. It was a bad habit. I mentally chided myself for being rude.

I couldn't tell what his reaction was; he was already facing away from me, stalking to the chair positioned in the centre of the dimly lit room, giving me a fine display of his small ass as it wriggled purposefully from side to side. I wondered if I'd be given a chance to see it better later, and then realised I had been caught staring when he turned abruptly back towards me.

I was blushing at being caught out, the heat dusting my cheeks as I remembered what I'd come here to do.

The door was still open behind me. I wasn't about to close it, not just yet, not when I wasn't sure if I was about to be chopped up into pieces and used to feed this guy for the next week. There was no guarantee that wouldn't happen at some point anyway, but I wasn't quite ready to take my chances yet.

As if sensing my hesitation, he gestured with a gloved palm to something to my right. It was a small side table. A single blank envelope, puffed out with what I assumed were dollar bills, greeted me when I looked. Perfect. That would cover a few things nicely.

“So, what can I do-”

I didn't get to finish my sentence. He cut me off, speaking in a quiet but commanding voice that instantly had my ass clenching with tension. It was an odd sensation and his words didn't alleviate it one bit.

“While we are in this room you are to address me as Corporal or Sir.”

_Ah. One of those._

I nodded, and when he raised a single, thin brow at me I cleared my throat and tried the words on for size.

“Yes, Sir.” I opted for the less formal one. I was so awkward when it came to titles. I was familiar with them, many clients liked to be called Master or Mistress and some went the other way, preferring to lick my own boot while I hailed down insults such as slave, slut, and bitch upon their hungry ears. I didn't really get the fascination myself.

Corporal was certainly new to my repertoire though, and I wondered if I'd be adding any more tricks to the rota this evening.

If he was pleased with my answer, he didn't show it. The arched brow lowered back into indifference, and as I stared into his bleak eyes, I contemplated his appearance. He was attractive, which always helped. But it was not a conventional kind of attraction, especially for a man.

He was flat-faced, his features pinched and refined. Thin lips that didn't smile. Sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. It was his eyes, though, that were the defining feature, the star of the show as it were. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and after seeing his I doubted he even had one. It was somewhat amusing to look at this small, permanently peeved man.

And looking at him was suddenly all I could do.

“Your first duty,” He began, and in my mind I reeled off several potential options from licking his boots to his cock, "is to clean this room. From top to bottom. Properly. Don't half-ass it." The train of possibilities derailed, breaks screeching and passengers screaming, straight off the 'what the fuck' cliff.

“...Clean?” I asked dumbly, and then added, “You want me to clean, Sir?”

“I'm sure you understand the concept.” He retorted, folding his arms across his chest. He was wearing a grey button up shirt and these tight, white pants that hugged every muscle of his taut legs. I lamented those legs didn't go on for longer, it was practically criminal how they stopped so short. The brown leather boots that encased him from the knee down made him look a little taller, I supposed, as did the slight heel on them.

Maybe that is what he had meant after all. I eyed his shoes thoughtfully, taking a step into the room, towards him.

“Oh, I see.” I said, half-smirking as I lifted my gaze to meet his. “I'll clean, Sir.”

In a swift motion I moved down to my knees, crawling along the ground until I was just in front of him, looking up at him with the full force of my eyes. When I wanted, I could make them huge, full of the innocence of my youth. Some guys liked that, I learned.

“Like this, Sir?” I asked, inches from putting my face to his boot.

Which, incidentally, is somewhat what happened next. Just not exactly how I intended it to.

Before I could actually touch him, he lifted his foot and, a little more forcefully than I would have liked, used the toe of his boot to push my forehead away. I fell back, landing with a surprised cry on my ass.

“Don't fucking touch me.” He hissed, a dangerous glint in his eyes. I shuddered. “I said clean. Clean the room. Not me, you shitty brat.”

He was serious.

Slowly I got to my feet, mind still reeling with confusion. In all the time I had been doing this, which admittedly wasn't all that long, I had yet to come across someone like this. I had met the ones who didn't want sex, who just wanted someone to talk to or cuddle. I had met those who just wanted to fuck, no words exchanged, a quickie in the back of the car or wherever.

I'd met those who asked quietly and full of shame if I would call them 'Daddy' (I would, I did), and those who unreservedly put me across their knee and spanked me until I begged for mercy. That is to say, I had encountered all sorts and each and every time I walked out of the encounter with an extra few bills to play with. But this? This was beyond the text book norm.

“You'll find the cleaning utensils are under the sink.” He said nonchalantly, slowly lowering himself into the chair. It was a nice-looking chair, and somewhere in the back of my mind I realised I'd expected to end up fucking in it. I guess not.

I headed for the kitchen. Sure enough, the cupboard under the sink had a large metal bucket that housed a duster on a stick, several different types of cloth, some really old school looking polish – actually, all of it was rather old looking. No Mr. Shine in sight. It was like taking a step back in time.

I retrieved the bucket of goodies and, barely managing to contain my excitement, returned to the living room. He was sitting in the chair, one leg bent over at the other, resting an ankle on his knee, reading a newspaper. He didn't even look at me as I clattered back into the room, glancing around and musing over where exactly he wanted me to start.

I wasn't well known for being clean. My room at home was in a perpetual state of chaos, but one that I knew how to effectively navigate. If I cleaned it properly, I wouldn't be able to find a single thing. Besides, I found the act of not tripping over as I rushed to get ready in the mornings to be a very good way of training my reflexes.

“I found the stuff.” I said, just to have something to say, to ease my own awkwardness. When I'd set out tonight, dressed in a casual shirt and jeans as usual, a reel of condoms in my back pocket, it was with the intention of either one of us in this room having our ass thoroughly pounded. With the expectation of getting laid removed from our encounter, I wasn't really sure how to proceed.

“Very good. Start over there.” He inclined his head slightly, gesturing to the door directly opposite him, the one I'd entered from.

“Yes, Sir.” It wasn't nearly as sexy as when carrying out a sexual order.

I didn't find the act of cleaning, purposeful cleaning, to be arousing at all. I took my bucket over to the door, set it down and retrieved the long duster from it. With a deep breath, I reached up and brushed it over the frame of the door. I wasn't about to let this deter me. If the man wanted to get off to the sight of having his apartment cleaned, then I was happy to oblige.

Heck, for a hundred dollars I'd done far, far worse.

From what I could see it was a nice apartment. Admittedly not at all what I expected from someone living in this part of town, and not really to my tastes. Not that it mattered what I thought. I guess I expected something fancier, more luxurious. I was a little disappointed.

The main room that I had entered into was the living room, with the kitchen leading directly off from it, separated by an island counter with two stools positioned there. They were made of wood and nondescript, looking like something straight out of the old-world.

In fact, I'll say it now; everything in this apartment must have been sourced from By Gone Days magazine, because not a single thing was modern, not even remotely.

Even the lighting, I discovered as I dusted it, was a mimicry of the past.

Though they had light bulbs in, they were made to look like gas lamps. For furniture, there was of course The Chair, as I dubbed it. It was a gorgeous piece, the most ornate of it all, with gold trim and luxurious, plush red cushioning that curved over into armrests. There was also a couch in a similar design, facing away from the kitchen and back into the room.

There was no television.

I noticed beyond Sir's chair, behind him, were a few doors leading to other parts of the apartment. It seemed far too modestly decorated for an apartment on the top floor in the upper area of town. I'd come from down town, naturally, catching cab (I figured I could afford such a luxury, and only used cabs for such appointments) and making the twenty-minute journey across town to be here. I preferred to walk, normally, but walking meant sweating and no one wanted a sweaty boy on their doorstep.

Actually, scrap that.

A couple of people had. I don't judge.

“Have you finished?” He asked, and I realised I hadn't resumed my cleaning since I started to look around. My eyes were glued to him once more.

For a moment, I forgot how to speak. I wasn't normally good with words and this situation made it all the worse. “I... I've...” I've what? I don't know.

We will never know. He lowered the paper he was reading, and fixed me with those eyes, eyes so cold and unfeeling even I began to feel numb, if not for the uncomfortable tension rising in my gut. My ass was clenching again.

“I'll inspect your work.” He said simply, placing the paper down on the coffee table and lifting himself up effortlessly. He approached me, the heel of his boots clanking on the wooden floor.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a little nervous the closer he got. A few paces from me he stopped, reaching out to brush his fingers along the frame of the door I'd dusted a few minutes before. He did the same to the lamp, the side table, even the wall.

Each time he retrieved his gloved finger the crease between his brows deepened, as did my nervousness. “Oi.You call this clean? It's disgusting. Have you never cleaned before?”

“I-I'm sorry, Sir!” I stuttered, taken aback by his tone. I didn't think it was possible to make him even more annoyed than he seemed to be already, but I managed to. “I'll-”

“Leave.” He said over his shoulder, already retiring back to The Chair.

I hovered, unsure. Was that it? I didn't understand this game at all. It was confusing and my head was beginning to hurt from trying to stay ahead. I was always ahead. I always knew what to expect, what was coming next. But something about this man took all that away, he pulled the rug clean out from under my feet and he was whacking me with it.

“I told you to leave, you shitty brat. Go home.”

“...Yes, Sir.” I said quietly. I had the intuition enough to return the cleaning supplies to beneath the sink. My lingering presence may have agitated him further, but the need to do it overrode my fear of further reprimand.

I picked up the envelope from the side table and quietly left the apartment, still bewildered and dazed by the time the elevator door pinged fifty-four floors later.

 

* * *

 

I was still confused and dazed the next morning as I hitched a ride to school with Armin, throwing my satchel down in the foot-well and clambering in to the old Toyota Camry next to him. He greeted me in his usual cheery manner, which was a little too cheery for a Monday morning, I decided, but did my best to keep up with him.

“So, how was your weekend?” He asked, not once taking his eyes from the road ahead.

Not for the first time in our life-long friendship did I consider telling him the actual truth. Maybe this time I would have, if he hadn't been driving, and as safe as I knew him to be behind the wheel, I wasn't so sure he wouldn't crash if I told him what I actually spent my weekends doing. I opted for the usual vague response. “Ah, nothing too exciting. I worked mostly.”

“How's the job going? You've been there a few months now, haven't you?”

I hated lying. “Yeah, almost a year now I guess.” That wasn't a lie. I had been doing my job for almost a year.

“You enjoy it still?”

“I am. It's good, it pays well.” Okay that wasn't so much a lie either. I did mostly enjoy it. Except for last night. Last night was just plain weird. “What about you? What did you get up to?” I diverted the conversation back to him, away from myself, to avoid getting too heavily into things. The more lies you told the more tangled up in them you became.

“I studied mostly,” he said almost solemnly. And then I realised why he sounded so sad. “We should arrange to go out sometime again. I only see you at school these days...” He shot me a look, a momentary glance, important enough for him to peel his attention from the road to make sure I'd heard him.

I had. And my heart gave a little twist as I knew I'd not been there for him as much as I should have been. “Yeah, that sounds good." I smiled back at him. "What you wanna do?”

I should have known he already had something planned. His look was as sheepish as his voice, even if I could only see the half of his face. "Well," he started, manoeuvring the car into an empty space in the school lot. He killed the engine and shifted in his seat to look at me fully. “I'm having a little get together at mine, just a couple of friends, nothing too fancy.”

“Is your granddad okay with that?”

“He's not home that weekend...”

“...Armin, are you trying to tell me you're throwing a party while the parental authority in your life is _away_?”

“D-Don't put it like that!” He protested at my playful, teasing tone.

Which only served to make me want to do it more. “You rebel. Next you'll be telling me you didn't do your homework or that you're into hardcore drugs.”

“Eren!” The way he said my name was adorable. “Please, will you say you'll come? If you can get the time off, that is.”

“How could I possibly not turn up to Armin's first act of rebellion?”

“Eren!” Again with my name. It made me chuckle, and as I retrieved my bag and clambered back out of his car, I called over the hood my answer.

“I'll be there, don't you worry about work. Text me the details later, okay?”

“Thanks.” He said earnestly, his sentence oddly punctuated by the central locking system of his car. It bleeped merrily, and together we joined the throng of students that made up our country's bright future, trudging to our first class with all the enthusiasm of prisoners going to execution. To be honest, a lethal injection would truly be an act of mercy in the face of my first lesson.

I wasn't particularly academic. I wasn't failing per say, but neither was I succeeding. I was one of those students that frustrated the living fuck out of his teachers. I was good. I was capable of doing much better, if I applied myself more. The fact was I wasn't interested in applying myself, and instead was happy to coast along on B and C grades, studying just enough to keep myself from flunking. Since I’d acquired my little weekend job, things like studying were a little harder to fit in, but I was managing. Enough that I was seriously considering Armin's offer of a weekend get together.

My day was overall uneventful.

Second period English began much like every other English period, with Connie begging to read over my notes before the teacher entered the classroom and scolded him again.

See, unlike me, Connie wasn't academically smart at all.

Well, I wasn't particularly smart either, but I had my wits about me.

Connie didn't have wits to rely on. He had humour though, a quirky kind of humour that made Sasha Blouse, one seat in front of him, always laugh. She was the female equivalent of Connie, a cardboard cut-out of him I suppose, just with more in some places and less in others. She also possessed a glutinous appetite for carbohydrates.

Those two kept me occupied in English well enough and saw me through until lunchtime, when I met back up with Armin, who was still on a high from me agreeing to go to his little weekend do. At the end of the day I met him in the parking lot by his car and he drove me home, back to the dreary singular existence that was my personal time.

I lived alone for the record.

My dad was somewhere in Europe, the last letter he sent describing a quaint village in the mountains of France.

He was a doctor and researcher of medicine, an excellent one if I say so myself. A breakthrough of his led to a pretty spectacular cure for a disease I'd never heard of. He sent me the newspaper clipping along with his letter that time, knowing I would be full of pride at his accomplishment. I was. I loved reading his letters; they ignited my imagination, fuelled my passion to see the places he saw, to travel into the mountains and walk along rivers, to explore the world we inhabited. I wished I could write back to him but there was no way of knowing my letter would reach him.

My mom was close by and I visited her every few months, always promising to come back sooner next time. I never did.

The house was, obviously, quiet as I entered. I still called out a greeting, smiling like an idiot to myself as I knew there would never be an answer. I slipped my shoes off by the door and dropped my satchel down next to them, stretching my back and arms as I headed for the kitchen.

I was guided by my stomach, the sandwich I ate for lunch already vanished into the void. I was a growing man, I told myself as I popped open the fridge, hunching over as I examined the contents – or lack thereof. There was a pizza box from Saturday that looked promising and the aroma of tomato and cheese drifted over me, making my stomach rumble.

Expectantly I pulled the box out and popped it open, only to find my dreams shattered.

Some asshole put an empty box in the fridge.

Who the fuck does that?

I threw the box out, returning to the fridge for another glance, as if by having a second look, the food faeries would swoop in and magically top it up for me. They didn't. The shelves were emptier now that the pizza box wasn't in there. I sighed, weighing up whether or not I could be bothered to make the much-needed trip to the store.

Slumping down on the couch I waited impatiently for the delivery guy to arrive with my order, flicking through the channels on the TV for something to occupy myself with in the meantime. Between some family exposing their deepest, most private issues to a live audience and having some ill-qualified asshat trying to sort them out and a soap opera there really wasn't much to watch. I opted for the former, if only to remind myself my own existence wasn't so bad after all.

I was halfway into being completely absorbed when there was a knock at the door. With freshly delivered pizza in hand, I grabbed a soda out of the fridge and returned to my position on the couch, my ass nestling back into the well-worn grooves easily.

It was a decent couch. Sure, the stuffing was starting to poke through in places, but it took me far longer than I was going to admit to make the perfect cushioning for my bony ass. I threw the pizza box on the coffee table, on top of the clutter that was already there, and found a place to put my soda, sitting back with a slice and a smile. This was the life.

I watched as the headline for the next family issue rocketed across the screen, announcing that a sister accidentally slept with her brother. I almost spat the pepperoni I'd been scoffing out of my mouth at that, reaching for the remote to turn the volume up a few notches. I simply had to hear this.

I was morbidly curious as to how that was even possible, given my own sibling status.

That... sounds kind of wrong.

I have a half-sister of sorts. We weren't related by blood at all; when I was around eight she came to live with us, and it was awkward as hell at first. I wasn't used to having another child around. I wasn't the most social-able child to begin with, so when she started taking up room at the dinner table I probably kicked up a lot more than I should have. It wasn't until the news about her parents came that I realised I wanted to be nice to her. It was a cold winter morning when the call came in.

She wasn't crying, she wasn't shouting, she wasn't anything.

She just stood there, letting the phone hang limply in the booth, the caller's voice saying her name again and again.

_I'm cold._

That was all she said.

And somehow I knew.

I gave her my scarf, my favourite red scarf, the one my mother knitted for me, and I wrapped it around her. After that, I began calling her my sister.

Mikasa moved out around a year and a half ago. Her studies were completed early (she's smart, really smart) she moved up state to attend a college that would open the door to a career in the medical field, much like dad.

She was reluctant to go at first, but I insisted I would be fine. She was still wearing that damn scarf the day she left.

Anyway. I finished my pizza slice and reached for the next, jumping when my phone suddenly buzzed. Armin's bright face appeared. It was a picture of us both, actually, a dorky selfie of us with stupid faces taken last summer. It made me smile whenever I saw it.

“Hey, Armin.” I said through a mouthful of pizza.

“Hey. I know you said to text but I thought it would be easier to call you... are you eating?”

“No?” I said, again through a mouthful of pizza. I slurped some soda to wash it down. "What's up?"

“You said to tell you about the details for the weekend.” He sounded almost afraid.

“I've not forgotten,” I reassured, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. “Fire away.”

“Okay so. We're gathering at mine at around seven. You're welcome to crash the night if you want to, I know one or two others may be staying.”

“Sounds good. Who else is gonna be there?” I didn't really care who turned up. There was only one person I didn't get on with very well. So long as he wasn't there, everything would run smoothly, and as far as I knew Armin wasn't inviting-over-for-parties friendly with that guy either.

“Oh, uhm...” I heard a shuffling noise in the background before he spoke again, “There's Sasha and Connie, Ymir and Krista, Bertolt, Reiner...”

“Any others?”

“Annie says she might go.”

Ah, Annie. She would certainly be the life and soul of any party with her quiet, aloof demeanour. “Meet at seven you said, right? Do I bring alcohol?”

“N-No!” Armin answered quickly. I wanted to laugh. So my little coconut wasn't ready to rebel to that degree yet. Though I was pretty sure Reiner would bring a case or two of beer, I wasn't about to tell Armin that. “No, just bring yourself. I'll have some snacks out ready.”

“Alright, alright. Sounds like a good mix. Count me in.”

“Thank you, Eren. I'm kind of nervous... it's my first time doing anything like this and it wouldn't be the same without you.”

I was flattered. “How could I say no to this? It's the party of the year. I feel like I should discourage you somehow...”

“Eren!” He did it again.

I shoved another bite of pizza into my mouth, now halfway through it, the TV show still airing in the background, mostly forgotten. I was enjoying my conversation with Armin, and found myself genuinely looking forward to seeing him at the weekend by the time we said our goodbyes.

He was right about it being too long since we last hooked up outside of school, and it was something I was now determined to change. Though I mostly saw clients at the weekends it would be good to have a break from it. A single weekend wouldn't hurt.

It was with that thought in mind that I recalled my last encounter. It still didn't sit right with me. I half expected to get a call from Hange, the go-between as it were, asking what the hell happened.

That particular call never came though.

It wasn't until the night of the party that I'd hear anything at all.

 


	2. Fools Give Parties, Sensible People Go To Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two is finally here. Thank you for coming back ;A;
> 
> Things are a little saucy this time around!

Armin's house wasn't far from my own, the gentle early evening stroll down the block to his pleasant and refreshing. On my way out, I took one last look at myself in the mirror, smoothing out any creases in my baggy black shirt and shoving my feet into my only pair of sneakers.

My wardrobe consisted almost entirely of plain t-shirts in varying colors and around three pairs of jeans.

I was a simple guy with simple tastes.

I wasn't surprised by the lack of thumping music as I approached his place - Armin may be having a party, but rest assured it was in a very loose sense of the word.

“Hey.” I greeted as he opened the door for me. “Hope I haven't missed anything.”

“Not yet, though you may wanna move fast if you're hungry.” He leaned towards me, dropping his voice so only I could hear, “Sasha was the first to arrive.”

“Enough said.” I raised my hand to silence him. I knew exactly what that meant. Sure enough Sasha was guarding the bowls of snacks like a dog, Connie ever present at her side.

I fell into an easy chat with Armin, sipping steadily at the soda he placed in my hand shortly after my arrival. So, this was Armin's first party. It wasn't off to a bad start, I must admit, as short lived as the notion ended up being.

“Oh, look who turned up.” I growled, crushing my empty soda can in annoyance as I saw the horse-like features of my arch nemesis round the corner and into the living room.

Our eyes locked and I swear a bolt of lightning passed between us. Pushing out of my seat I squared up to Jean Kirstein, who looked just as happy to see me as I was him. Good.

“Hey, horseface. What the fuck do you think you're doing here?” I spat, brandishing my crushed can as though it was some kind of demonstration of my strength.

“Tch. I should've known you'd be here.” He replied, brows knotting in annoyance. “Can't you think of anything original to say?”

“Original or not, you're not welcome here. Now fuck off back to the fields.”

“I was _invited_ , Yeager.”

“Like hell you were!” I retorted, my voice lifting with anger. “There's no way Armin would stoop so low.”

Jean made a clicking sound in the back of his throat, undoubtedly the indicator for his brain reloading with another retort. I wasn't holding my breath for it to be decent.

“Stop it, the pair of you!” Armin stood between us, separating us out. “ Eren, calm down. It's true, I invited him. I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier, I-”

“You knew I wouldn't come.” I finished for him, not taking my eyes off Jean. They were beginning to ache from such a horrid sight.

Armin made a small noise, looking away from me. “I'm sorry.” He mumbled. “Please, you can make do for one evening, right? For me?” He set his big blue eyes on me and I made the fatal mistake of looking into them.

“For your sake, I'll play nice.” I said defeated. “But if he does anything to upset you...”

Armin nodded, happy that I was backing down. “I'll be back in a bit, okay?” He said to me, then he took off in the direction of the kitchen with Jean, giving my eyes time to readjust. He was the very last person I wanted to see.

Ugly as sin and ill-tempered like an unbroken horse. I smirked to myself; he needed a good ride, that would help him unwind.

Shame no one would be so desperate as to give him one.

Without Armin to occupy my attention I wandered back to my seat, taking in the small gathering of fellow students. I recognised the face of Annie, sitting in the far corner alone, nursing a can of soda and not talking.

Nothing unusual there.

I spied Krista and Ymir in the garden, secluded in their own little world made just for the two of them. Nothing unusual there, either. Ymir must have made a joke. Krista's delicate features were scrunching into a laugh and she lightly punched at Ymir's arm, covering her mouth with her other hand. From my seat by the patio window, I had a perfect view of them, and for a time I quietly watched them in their blissful happiness.

They were wrapped up in each other, content in their own space, enjoying the shared company. I met a lot of lonely people in my weekend work, for sure, people looking to recreate the kind of connection that those two out there had, if only for an hour or two.

I never considered myself to be just like those people – lonely.

But as I watched them, I started to realise that maybe I was.

Just a little. Maybe.

I pulled away from that line of thinking. It never got anyone anywhere good.

“Eren!” Armin called my name. I looked up to see him sitting back down opposite me, Jean nowhere in sight. He looked a little flushed.

“So,” I said, “Since when did you and Jean become buddies?”

“Ah... we've been talking a little while.”

“You kept that quiet.”

“I guess I did.” He said guiltily. “Can you blame me for that? You two don't get on, what purpose would it have served to tell you?”

I shrugged at that. No arguing with logic. Definitely no arguing with Armin's logic. I changed the subject. “Hey, Sasha. Leave some of the Doritos for the rest of us!”

She looked up, her mouth as full as a hamster, a wild look in her eye. I couldn't make out what she said in return, chip crumbs spilling out of her mouth, her hand grabbing at the bowl of chips possessively. Guess I wasn't having any of those after all.

“Have you heard from Mikasa recently?” Armin asked, drawing my attention back to him.

I nodded. “She called me last week, actually. Says she would like to arrange to come back down sometime soon. She misses you.”

“Oh!” Armin's eyes lit up in excitement. “It would be really nice to see her again! Please tell me when she does come down. I've missed her too.”

“I know the feeling.” I said, remembering how the three of us played together. We were a trio, never one without the other two.

His smile was so heart-warming. He was a pure creature, Armin. Highly intelligent though lacking somewhat in social skills. He was a little awkward around the edges, more so than me. I had to hand it to him though, the social gathering he'd put together wasn't bad, save for Jean.

Reiner and Bertholdt turned up fashionably late, an hour and a half to be exact, but with good reason. As I predicted, Reiner was carrying a crate of beer under each arm. The guy was a walking gym advertisement; muscles on muscles, with little to no brain. From what I knew of him he could be surprisingly sincere and gentle despite looking like a brick shithouse.

Well, that's what a couple of the girls said anyway.

Next to him was Bertholdt, taller than the majority of us put together, holder of a nervous disposition. He was a little reserved, but not as much as Annie, who still held an entire couch to herself. I wondered how long these social barriers would last now that alcohol was on the scene.

“Don't get too drunk!” Armin said, practically shrieking from the kitchen as Reiner placed the crates down. I heard the bottles clink together and my mouth watered a little. I could do with a drink, I decided, pushing up from the couch.

“Eren,” Reiner said, popping open a bottle and passing it straight to me. I nodded in thanks, took a generous swig of the beer and let it slide down my throat. It was cold and took the edge of things exactly how I needed after a long week at school. “How's stuff?”

I shrugged. “Stuff. The usual. You?”

“Yeah, not bad. Is uh... is Krista here?”

I shot him an apologetic look. “Yeah, she's... she's in the garden. With Ymir.”

“Ah.” He smirked, more to himself than for me, I think. “I'll try and talk to her later."

“Hah, yeah. You won’t get to her with Ymir there. Not sure it's worth trying either.”

“She's a feisty one, that's for sure,” he agreed, and we stood sipping at our beers for a moment with nothing much left to say. I told you, I was awkward when it came to this kind of thing. If it didn't involve stripping of clothes and some debauched act with a pocket of money at the end, I didn't know how to behave.

“Wasn't Armin here?” I asked. My question was soon answered. From down the hall I heard his laughter and, following the sound, saw a sight I never imagined. He was with Jean. Jean was telling jokes. Funny ones. The bastard. Who did he think he was?

My mood was souring again.

“You two don't get on much do you?” Reiner asked, apparently having followed me, using his bottle to gesture over my shoulder.

“Not really. I don't much like assholes.” How I stopped myself from laughing at my own in-joke I would never be able to tell you. I didn't quite know how myself.

“I don't think he's that bad.” Bertholdt said, surprising me with his appearance. Or my own lack of observation surprised me. One or the other, because I swear he wasn't there earlier. “I think if you got to know him a little better it wouldn't be so bad. He has his moments.”

“I don't think I have the patience to wait for one of those to come along.” I said, feeling the frustration boiling over.

I didn't like talking about Jean, I liked that he was talking to my friend even less, and that he was making my friend laugh even less than that. I took another generous swig of my drink.

Reiner laughed. “You're in for a tough time, Eren. Armin's clearly taken a bit of a shine to him.”

“Don't be silly, there's no way-” My phone was buzzing. “Sorry, one sec.” I hooked it out, cussing under my breath when I noticed the number. You are fucking kidding me. “I need to step out and take this.” I muttered, discarding my bottle on the kitchen counter and hurrying into the garden, forgetting Krista and Ymir were out there. It was too late, I already answered the call, and made a point of not looking in their direction as I spoke.

“What is it?” I said, a little more curtly than I meant to.

“Oho, bad time, is it?” Hange's sing-song voice echoed down the line at me. I rubbed at my temples.

“I'm not home if that's what you mean."

“Well, well, you may want to head that way and get ready. I have a last-minute call for you – if you want it, that is.”

I didn't. “Whatever it is just turn it down.”

“Are you sure?” She paused. “It's the same guy as last time. He specifically requested you...”

The image of the little bastard popped into my head, unwelcome as it was, and I instantly tensed. “...What do you mean, _specifically_?” I hated my sense of curiosity. Hange knew how to hook me like a fish, dangling a juicy worm in front of my face was sure to make me bite. They knew they had me, they just had to reel me in.

I could hear the accomplished satisfaction in their voice. It grated my already fraying nerves. “He just asked for you, no one else. If you can make it, I'll call him back and confirm...”

“...Fine. Fine!” I was going to regret this. I could feel it in my bones. But anything was better than staying here watching Jean buddy up to my best friend. “How long do I have?”

“How soon can you go?”

 

* * *

 

Armin was a little dismayed when I announced I had to go, but he was soon distracted by horseface again. He gave me a hug on the porch, and I stalked home as quickly as my feet could carry me, ignoring the twisting knot in my stomach. I was nervous. I was annoyed. I was a mixture of things.

Hange texted me with the specifics as I came through the front door. I read over it quickly, jogging up the stairs. I flipped the shower on and launching my clothes onto the floor dived straight in.

 

 

> _Clean up thoroughly! Behind your ears and between your toes!_
> 
> _Don't use heavily scented products. No colognes. Dress simply, doesn't matter what – make sure it's clean._
> 
> _You don't need to bring anything. Taxi will be there by 22:30._

It was similar to the first appointment, easy enough to follow, nothing special. I didn't have the luxury of getting ready in my leisure though, and found myself grateful that I had the foresight to shave earlier. I hurried to wash, grabbing the least scented products I owned. Coconut Kisses it was.

Truth be told I was keen for the chance to go back. It was certainly an unexpected invitation, the first and last meeting ending on a peculiar note. Maybe this time things would be better. I needed the chance to fuck the anger out of my system and he looked capable of delivering on that score.

When I heard the honk of the taxi outside, I was rolling down the stairs, working the stubborn sock over my toes and jumping into my shoes. I'd chosen a white shirt combined with fitted jeans, making the most out of ass.

The taxi honked again. I marvelled at how a blast of sound could be so impatient.“I'm coming, I'm coming!”

Grabbing my keys and phone I exited my house for the second time that day.

Watching the scenery change from the dingy houses of my area and slowly transform into the apartment high rises was fascinating. I particularly liked this time of night, when all the city lights were on, a dazzling, sparkling spectacle of light against the pitch black of the sky. It was so long since I'd seen real stars, but I liked the artificial ones all the same.

There was an odd sense of romance to the night, I thought.

Of unspoken opportunity, as it were. Something to that effect.

I thanked the driver in word only as I got out, reserving the tip in revenge for the abuse of the horn back at my house.

Here I am again, standing on the sidewalk outside the apartment.

Nervously, as if he were watching me from above, I checked over my clothes before lightly pressing the buzzer to the left of the lobby doors. Instantly I heard the crackle of the receiver, and without a word he granted me access. I pushed open the door, squashing the sense that a humble street rat such as myself should have no business being in a building as swanky as this.

I made a dive across the glittering hall and into the elevator, praying no one joined me in the metal box as we ascended to the heavens. So far so good. Twenty floors to go, and with nothing else to do I checked myself over in the mirrored walls of the elevator.

I was fairly tall at 5'7'', skinny as fuck, round-faced and possessing a boyish charm. To be honest, aside from that and having large, green eyes that in some lights became blue, I wasn't anything special to look at. My hair was brown and a little unruly, and my skin had a healthy Mediterranean glow, I suppose. I was lucky that the onset of puberty left my skin flawless, and for the most part I was still relatively hairless.

My older clients seemed to like that about me.

I had a couple of regulars; much, much older men than myself, who enjoyed the company of a younger man such as myself. They didn't have stamina at all, and a quick blowjob or handjob was often all it took to keep them happy.

I didn't care either way, so long as they paid.

Though regular, it was once every month that I'd see them, their work schedule allowing. I refused all week day appointments, since staying out until the early hours was a common factor of the job and I had school to go to.

It worked in my favour, luckily, though it just as easily could have worked against me. Instead of reducing my marketability, it increased it, adding a sense of demand to my services.

People always sought what they couldn't have.

The doors opened on the 54th floor and I stepped out. There weren't many doors on this floor, making his apartment quick to locate despite only being my second visit. I rapped my knuckles on the dark wood door.

He answered immediately.

Was he waiting for me?

“Took your sweet ass time. There are some clothes in the other room. Change into them first.” He said as soon as I closed the door behind me.

I noted the plain envelope on the side table and realised I never counted the first one. It was still on my bedroom desk back at home. Normally I was quite meticulous in ensuring I'd been paid the full amount, but something in the way he acted told me I didn't have to worry.

“Yes, Sir.” I said quietly, tacking the word on the end as I almost forgot.

“In here.” He opened one of the far doors and ushered me inside, closing it shut as soon as I passed through.

I wasn't sure if it was a spare room or his room. There was a single bed and a wardrobe, a bedside table with a lamp, and nothing else. Nothing but the outfit laid out on the bed. It wasn't exactly what I anticipated. That said, I wasn't sure what to expect any more with him.

I changed quickly and joined him in the living room, leaving my clothes in a pile in the other room.

He was standing beside The Chair, his eyes taking me in as I came out. They roamed my body from bottom to top, examining every detail.

Time came to a halt.

I couldn't breathe as those cold eyes pierced me, finally settling on my own, his gaze strong enough to send my heart knocking.

No one had ever looked at me quite like it before.

I was wearing the same white pants as he wore, the same knee-high leather boots, a loose-fitting shirt that I couldn't quite decipher if it was a green or grey or brown, and the lace at the collar made me feel I'd stepped straight into a history book.

There was one part of the uniform given to me that I could make neither heads nor tails of, however, and I held the white square of fabric in my hand sheepishly. “I didn't know what to do with this...”

“Around your neck. It goes around your neck.” He seemed to want to move towards me, but something stopped him. “It's to stop the dust going into your lungs.” He explained, sounding frustrated.

“Ohh...”I nodded in understanding, feeling silly, and tied the cloth about my neck. “Like this, Sir?”

“Yes, like that.”

Well, it was the least kinky outfit I'd ever worn, let me tell you. I couldn't help but feel some belts and a harness would bring it into the realm of what I was used to. However, he seemed to appreciate the effort, nodding slightly at me, and giving my body another appreciative sweep.

God, I wanted him.

The way he was looking at me was driving me crazy. I wasn't going to be that lucky, I realised, as he sent me off to the kitchen to retrieve the cleaning supplies.

Ah, my own personal little bucket of joy. I put away my thoughts of fucking him senseless and focused on the task at hand. If anything, I liked to think I was adaptable.

I was going to do a better job this time. He was going to praise me, I was certain, as I took out the duster and began to sweep it along the door frame, that he would be pleased with my effort this time.

He sat himself down as I began my work, and soon all I heard from him was the sound of the paper crinkling as he turned the pages. I didn't think people still bothered with newspapers any more. He was old fashioned in more ways than one, it seemed. Was it in an age thing?

He was definitely older than I was, the deep marks around his strained eyes giving me that much.

That and, no one my age would be able to afford to live in this part of town. Not even with a hefty inheritance. His job must be well paying, more so if he can afford to waste Saturday night buying the company of a rent boy.

Especially one he wanted to clean.

Even so, if he was sitting on money he could at least afford a decent television or a tablet to read the news on.

I wanted to talk to him, to learn about him.

It was too quiet in here. I cleared my throat.

“Sir,” I began, my back to him as I worked the cloth through the hook of a modernised gas lamp.

“Don't speak.” He barked, and I shut my mouth, swallowing the dismal attempt at conversation I'd been about to make. My gut twisted as I carried on cleaning, wiping down the walls and even scrubbing at the skirting boards. In all honesty, to me it was pointless. The place was immaculate as it was, it didn't need further work. There was absolutely zero benefit to making me do this.

I wasn't even _trying_ to clean, I was merely putting on a show of it.

I felt like an idiot for not realising it sooner. Of course!

The idea dropped into my head like a boulder in a pond, and once there the waves it caused in me were an unstoppable force. He wanted a performance! A seduction of sorts. Some guys liked sexy dances, my guy liked cleaning. I don't judge.

The only issue remaining was whether or not I was able to perform as he wanted.

I started on my hands and knees, moving slowly forwards, languidly rolling my hips from side to side as sensuously as I could manage. I prowled like a cat as I hunted out the imaginary particles of dust and scrubbed them away with my cloth, ensuring my vigorous movements jolted my entire body back and forth as I scrubbed.

To my delight, I heard him sigh, the crinkle of paper ceasing some time ago. It took all of my will power not to turn around to check if he was, in fact, watching me. I wanted to know, more than anything, that those eyes were watching me.

Emboldened, I crawled over to the coffee table in front of him, stealing a glance as I moved.

He was reading his paper.

My heart plummeted in my chest. I'd been wrong all along, my efforts for nothing. What a fucking waste. He was so engrossed in reading, the crease between his brows deep, his lips drawn thinly together, there was no way he could have noticed me.

Whatever he was reading about it had his full attention and I hated it for that. I was working my ass off, literally, and printed words on a page captivated him more than I could. I was seriously beginning to doubt myself, my capabilities.

Would I give up, though?

Hell no. I ain't no quitter.

I would make myself more interesting than a fucking newspaper.

He called me here. I know from last time it wasn't because of my ability to clean.

I carefully knelt down in the space left between him and the coffee table, which was almost the length of the couch and made of glass, and worked my cloth slowly over the wrought iron legs, making my up and down gesture as erotic and suggestive as possible. I wasn't sure if he'd see exactly what I was doing from behind, but I was sure the rhythmic gesturing would be enough to capture his imagination at least, _if_ he looked.

When I was certain both legs my side were adequately clean, I turned to the glass surface, leaning forward onto it to extend my reach to the far end. It was completely impractical in terms of cleaning. It was completely effective in making my ass stick out, directly beneath his view – and, as I found out, ample for touching.

By his foot.

I felt it press against the curve of my ass, pushing in just enough to force me further forward than I already was, my cheek pressing to the cold glass. I was grateful for it; the sudden chill countered the heatwave the sensation of him touching me caused.

I couldn't fathom how it was that his foot was able to make me quiver, but it did. It meant his attention was finally on me. I'd distracted his reading. He was focused on me, and he was nudging the sole of his boot into my backside.

My skin tingled, prickling with an intensity that let me only imagine what it would feel like if it were his hand that was on me.

Suddenly that's all I wanted, and I am a little ashamed to admit that the pants he'd given me were steadily growing tighter around my waist.

Who exactly was seducing who?

“Shitty brat.” He said, voice perfectly even and calm. “The fuck do you think you're doing?”

I swallowed hard. “C-cleaning the table, Sir.” I stuttered. I hated that.

“Oh? You think _that_ is how you clean?” His foot shifted on my ass, closer towards the center. I held my breath. “You're worse than useless.” With that his foot was gone from me and in its wake, I felt nothing but an icy blast of emptiness. “Go get changed. You're done.”

I peeled myself off the table solemnly, defeated.

I don't really know how but I fucked up.

In the bedroom, I changed quietly, quickly, sighing to myself. The clothes he'd lent me I folded up as neatly as I could, and shuffling into my shoes I came back into the living room.

He wasn't there.

I looked around for any sign of him, but the only proof he'd ever been there at all was the newspaper, laid out on the table where I had been previously. I don't know why, but something made me stop at his chair. I knew I should leave quickly, but the compulsion was too strong to ignore.

I traced my fingers over the gold framing, my heart pounding in my chest as I felt the carved wood, more intricate and more luxurious than anything I'd ever felt in my life.

The plush cushioning was leather, dyed red leather, and as I pressed my hand into the seat I felt his lingering warmth.

My breath hitched in my throat at that, to feel it. It felt somehow too intimate, like I was _touching him_. I doubted I would ever get the chance to.

Two fuck ups. There was no way he would call for me a third time.

It was time to give up and go home.

I made a dash for the door, grabbing the envelope on the way. I threw myself into the elevator, releasing the breath I'd been holding only when the doors slid shut.

 

* * *

 

The sky was flushing with color, the onset of a new day dawning above me as I came out of the building, the cab to take me home waiting by the curbside.

I tried not to think about him as the car pulled into the traffic, the apartment complex growing smaller as it faded into the distance.

I tried not to think about him, which meant exactly the opposite to my brain.

I was annoyed at myself for fucking up. I felt like all around him were scattered mines, one false move and _boom_.

He wasn't textbook like the others. There was no clear-cut category I could safely slot him into, no instruction manual to study and apply. He remained a mystery, an aloof and distant mystery, one I was determined to somehow unravel.

If I got the chance to. I doubted I would.

This job was not meant to be complicated.

The customers were easy, straight forward, rarely deviating from the norm.

But him? The Corporal? He was an abnormal.

What did it matter to think on now? He wouldn't bother with me anymore.

I resolved to forget him as the cab pulled up outside my home.

Home sweet home.

This was a space I knew and understood well. I'd grown up in this house, never once moving, not since the day I was brought home from the hospital as a newborn. I would never leave here, either. Too many memories were wrapped inside these walls.

I retreated to the calculated chaos that was my bedroom.

I already knew what I was going to do.

Without a client to relieve me of my pent-up frustrations and the last one only adding to them, I climbed onto my bed and laid down on my back. I was semi-hard, infuriatingly caused by the lingering thought of that grumpy clean freak.

I didn't jerk off often. My clients, some of them at least, enjoyed watching me touch myself, and I grew used to doing it with an audience. I found it tricky at first, sure, but it soon became easy. The flip side was I found it more difficult to do it alone.

Tonight, that wouldn't be an issue I realised.

I kicked my jeans down to my ankles, too impatient to remove them fully. I pulled my shirt completely off, tossing it into the room a little more fiercely than I meant to. I heard it _thunk_ off the far wall but by then my attention was already elsewhere, my hand sliding down the flatness of my chest. It was the best I could do, my eagerness to get off overriding the novelty of a slow build up.

I wasn't putting on a show for anyone, I just needed to expel the excess sexual energy. I wrapped my hand around my cock, already fully hard and dripping, and palmed the precum down my shaft for an easier glide. I'd forgotten how good it could feel to do this.

It wasn't long before I was gasping, my hips twitching off the mattress to fuck my own hand, imagining it was anything but my own hand.

My thoughts were wandering, the destination not at all what I wanted it to be.

But I couldn't care about that right now. I was lost to my lust and if the image of bending that bastard over the coffee table and thrusting into his tight ass until he cried my name – not “shitty brat”, but my _actual name_ – was what I needed, then so be it.

It was exactly what I needed. No sooner did I imagine the sound of his coming with my name tearing from his lips than did I follow, shooting my load messily onto my chest and muffling my own cry into the back of my hand. I was biting the flesh hard, enough to leave a mark I would later discover, but in the moment, I was gone.

I came hard, my entire body shaking as the final spasms subsided, the sticky mess coating my abdomen and chest thickly.

I fell back against the bed, completely spent, and when sleep beckoned to me I was all too keen to run after it. I fell asleep quickly, leaving my own come to dry on my chest.

I would regret that in the morning.

 


	3. Sunday Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a short chapter this week I am afraid!
> 
> Thank you to absolutely everyone who has been reading, especially those who have taken the time to comment and/or leave kudos. It's very encouraging as an author to receive feedback of any (constructive!) kind. So thank you again!
> 
> I would also like to say that due to unforeseen personal circumstances my editor is unavailable for a few weeks. This chapter was edited by another person (who busted my ass for over an hour), so special thanks for that.

This was getting out of hand.

Maybe it already is and I was lying to myself.

Like a coward, I fled to the main bedroom while he changed, the door locked behind me – to keep me in or him out? - and leaned my head back against it. The sound of my heart thundering in my chest, the blood rushing in my ears, was deafening, drowned out entirely as the front door closed behind him.

The sound of the latch hitting home reverberated throughout the apartment, through me, rattling my bones as I slowly sunk down to the floor.

I was alone at last.

My breath came out shaken as I finally released it.

I didn't know I was holding it and now I was gasping for air.

I slipped the cravat from my throat and popped open the top three buttons of my shirt, easing the pressure on my lungs as I struggled to establish normality. Whatever the hell that was, anyway.

Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about me was normal.

The brat had taken his sweet time leaving. Part of me expected to see him out there, dressed in the uniform I gave him. His eyes would narrow as he searched me from top to bottom, and the thought sent a shiver through me, as surely as if he were here. I wrapped my arms around me and pulled my knees closer to my chest.

He was like a book, making no effort to hide what was going on inside that head of his.

A book I was struggling to put down.

I don't know what I anticipated from his sort. A little subtlety, I suppose. He was anything but in the way he bumbled around the apartment, waving a cloth around like a flag rather than a cleaning tool, swinging his hips from side to side in much the same manner.

It was gross.

Even worse was my own response to it; I could not take my eyes away, hypnotized by the swaying as if he dangled a time piece in front of my face.

My ass was going numb. I pushed up from the floor when I was sure my legs could hold me upright, laying the cravat down on the chest of drawers and unbolting the door. Slowly, I opened it peeking out through the crack with wary eyes.

He was definitely gone.

Good.

I stood in the living room without purpose, spying the newspaper folded neatly on the table and realizing with a depth of shame that I couldn't recall a single word of what was printed. The brat succeeded in gaining my attention, albeit a little too well for my personal comfort. I honestly wasn't expecting to find him so distracting.

Was I more surprised by his ability, or my reaction?

I peeled the gloves off my fingers and placed them on top of the paper, flexing my fingers and enjoying the cool air on my skin. I ran my fingers through my hair and turned aimlessly, lost in a familiar place, uncertain what to do with myself.

Inside I was rattled, fighting to organize the mess he'd caused, perturbed by the extent of the damage inflicted in such a short space of time. Despite being the one to invite him into my apartment it was beginning to feel more like he barged his way in.

Now that he was there I couldn't rid myself of the traces of him, no matter what.

No. That was exactly what I must do.

I strode into the spare room, moving swiftly with my newfound sense of purpose, my intention clear. I would throw it out. All of it; his boots, the pants, the shirt, the jacket. I was ending this now. I'd find someone else. Or carry on as I am. I needed to clear him out and restore the comfortable equilibrium I was accustomed to.

_You really are a little shit._

His folding sucked. It was truly the worst attempt at neatness I ever saw. To declare this simply messy was an understatement. It was an absolute atrocity.

“Tch, did no one teach you to do this properly?” I murmured, momentarily forgetting what I came in here to do. It would all be screwed up in the trash anyway, what did it matter? Why was I hesitating suddenly?

My fingers trembled against my will, ignoring my silent command to be still, as I carefully lifted his shirt. It seems I wasn't quite ready to let go.

I carried the shirt into the living room, to my chair. The one piece of furniture in this whole space I was genuinely fond of. I slipped my legs out of my boots and sat down with my knees folded to my chest, clutching the brat's shirt in my hands.

He was wearing this a short while ago. These woven strands were pressed to his naked flesh, and now to mine as I buried my face into the shirt. The distant fragrance of coconut drifted over me.

The bastard. I specifically asked for unscented.

Regardless of his inability to follow a simple command, I was breathing in deep his scent, drawing it as far into my lungs as it would go, my eyes closed tightly as I conjured up the image of him. Well, this was most unexpected.

The self-loathing would come later.

For a time I let myself go. Let myself be free as I roamed the comforting illusion that I could ever be this close to someone.

An impossible dream.

My eyes were growing heavy. Without the strength to fight it off I let myself fall asleep as I was, the brat's shirt both my pillow, and my blanket.

 

* * *

 

 

The ringing of a phone woke me, muffled as it hailed my attention desperately from another room.

“Shit.” I cussed, lifting my head and feeling the stiffness in my neck. My entire body was wooden, I realized, creaking and complaining as I uncurled myself from the cramped position.

I really needed to find a better place to fall asleep; in an apartment with two bedrooms I was stupid enough to choose this chair for a bed. I deserved to feel this way.

My phone was ringing still, the call cutting off and starting over as the caller redialled. Persistent bastard.

“I'm coming. Be quiet already.” I grumbled with irritation.

As I got to my feet I noticed something slip from my lap, landing in a heap on the floor.

It was the brat's shirt.

The one I was going to throw out along with the rest of the uniform.

Angrily, I swiped it off the floor and stalked into the main bedroom, snatching my phone off the bedside and answering it on the final ring without so much as checking the caller I.D. I already knew who it would be.

“What is it, Erwin?” I snapped.

“Good morning to you too, Levi.” If he flinched at my tone he kept it well away from his voice.

I frowned, the crease between my brows forever deepening. Morning? How long was I asleep for?

“It's Sunday.” I hedged, genuinely hoping I had not somehow slept through until Monday. My body was heavy enough to feel like that was a possibility.

“This isn't a work call. It's social, I assure you.”

Like that was a comfort. “Go on.”

“I thought it would be nice if we met for lunch. That is if you don't have prior plans?”

At this point I noticed I was still wearing yesterday's clothes.

This was not at all a good start to the day.

“I can do lunch.” I offered, peeling my dirty clothing off and dumping it in the hamper, along with the shirt. I pulled the phone away, checking the hour. Not even ten a.m.

“Excellent.” Erwin sounded pleased by my response.

“If you bring up work once, I'm leaving.”

“I promise not to discuss work.”

We finalized the plans – one o'clock at our usual cafe – and ended the call. It gave me time to get freshened up and out of here, and the distraction of lunch would stop me chewing myself over for last night. For a couple of hours at least.

Once in the bathroom I flipped the taps and watched the tub begin to fill. The pipes gurgled audibly as the hot water rose up, spluttering out noisily.

My skin was itching to get clean and I was desperate to scrub it.

I knew without catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror that I was a mess, but it helped to confirm the full damage while I waited for the tub to fill. I looked tired, the lines around my eyes deepening the longer I inspected them.

Best not to look for too long.

I brushed my teeth. I rinsed with the mouthwash.

Each little step peeled back a layer until I felt comfortable in my own skin again, but none more so than when I submerged myself in the steaming heat of the bath. I lowered myself carefully in, pale skin flushing crimson as the water rushed over me. I sighed in contentment, my head rolling back and my arms resting on the edges.

I refused to think about anything unnecessary as I lay there, listening to the soft _plip, plip, plip_ of the tap, eyes drifting out the window.

To the world beyond.

To the sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sorry for the shortness!
> 
> My editor will be unavailable for a few weeks, maybe longer, at present I am not sure. But this work is definitely not forgotten - I am currently working on chapter fifteen! Please be patient. I will update as soon as I can without compromising quality.


	4. A Fly Can Drive Away Horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience, everyone!
> 
> Without further ado, I present the next instalment. Please enjoy it and feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. I love reading them :')

“You’re joking,” I said, slamming my soda can down on the cafeteria table, that along with the raising of my voice earning me more than a few startled looks. I wasn't about to be deterred by a couple of alarmed lunch goers. “Armin? What is he doing here?”

Armin gave me a small smile as he placed his tray down opposite mine. He wasn't the issue. It was the horse coming up behind him, his own loaded lunch tray in hand. I was mildly surprised to see it didn't contain a single shred of hay. I thought about making such a quip but Armin was already hurriedly talking. “Jean is going to have lunch with us today.”

“No, he fucking isn't.” I snapped. I felt a little guilty upon seeing the look on Armin's face. “Isn't it against health and safety to have an animal in a place that serves food?” I got that one out.

Ten points to House Yeager.

“Be nice. Please?” He said, and then, lower, “For my sake.”

I grumbled, stuffing the next bite of my sandwich into my mouth just to keep me from saying anything as Jean placed his tray down beside Armin's. That was the second time Armin used that on me. It was moments like this I needed Mikasa in my life. She was a good presence to have around, a soothing balm to my raging anger. And by that I mean she was the only one strong enough to hold me down.

“You left the party pretty quickly Saturday night.” Jean said, popping open his bottle of water. “You missed a great time.”

My eye twitched at that. I didn't want to think about Saturday. I'd spent Sunday moping around the house, doing what laundry I absolutely could not do without and catching up on some assignments. I was too preoccupied for the English reading and opted to work on the Math instead. There was something to be said about the certainty of numbers in calming an unsettled mind. “Why don't you tell me all about it.” I muttered bitterly.

I didn't expect it but he fucking did.

He took the invitation rather than the hint underneath it.

“Reiner got real drunk and made a move on Krista, to start. It was pretty funny watching a man his size beaten down by a girl. If you see him, do him a favour and don't mention the color of his eye. I heard it's a shiner today.”

“Don't mention the eye. Got it.”

“Bertholdt ended separating them.” Armin said, sipping his water. “Krista tried, but...”

“Ymir was out for blood.” Jean finished for him and the two exchanged a look.

You know what, suddenly I lost my appetite. “What else did I miss?”

“Connie and Sasha were making out on the couch.” Jean said.

“That's no surprise. They’ve seemed pretty close for a while now.” I said, pushing the last of my sandwich around my lunch box.

“Why didn't you stay, Eren?” Armin asked the million-dollar question.

Finally.

He'd avoided the conversation this morning on the ride in. I thought I'd gotten away with it, but now it was here there was nothing I could do to wriggle out of it. The sincerity of Armin's voice made me look up from my lunch, and I met his gaze.

Big mistake.

There was no way I could stare into those innocent eyes and lie. Maybe he knew that and that's why he trapped me with them. I swallowed the lump in my throat, choosing to be evasive instead.

“Ah, I'm sorry about that. Something came up at work.” That was lame.

“Ymir and Krista overheard you on the phone.” He said. “They told me earlier in History class that you sounded angry.”

Shit.

I'd forgotten about those two.

I couldn't remember my half of the conversation, so piecing together what exactly they overheard was impossible. “I-”

“I'd be pretty pissed if work called me at the weekend.” Jean interjected, peeling Armin's attention from me.

Was that... was that Jean saving me?

I felt my mouth unhinge. I could hear it flapping like a creaky sign in a stiff breeze. I could hear the crickets, too, and thought I caught sight of a tumble weed blowing through. Jean Kirstein just came to my rescue. I didn't know if I was grateful, fucked off, or what.

I clicked my jaw back into place, thrilled to find it still functioned. “I'm sorry I left like I did. I wanted to stay,” Okay that was a half-truth. “Work was short staffed, so I ended up having to go in. Jean's right, I was pretty pissed off about it.” I never thought the day would come where I'd be silently thanking Jean for helping me out.

I stole a glance at him.

I normally opted to do anything but look at his ugly excuse for a face, but there it was.

I needed to see it.

And there was something else I never thought I'd say. Today was full of unpleasant surprises. He pointedly stared back at me in a silent exchange I wasn't entirely sure I was understanding.

“You know,” Armin carried on, and the phrase _like a dog with a bone_ came to mind, “You never told me what it is you do.”

Another million dollar question. Armin, my friend, you are on a roll. If ever there was a time to announce my weekend roll as a rent boy, now wasn't it.

I wasn't that fucking stupid. Neither was I smart enough to pull a decent lie out of my ass.

“Oh, uh...” I was floundering. “It's nothing too exciting.” Good job, Eren. Buy yourself time. Use it wisely now.

“You've been there a while haven't you? Yet you never said what it was.” He pressed.

“...Are you sure... I never mentioned it?” I was gaining valuable seconds here. If only I was able to use them wisely and actually _come up with an answer_.

“No, not once. I've been curious for sometime.”

“So, what is it Eren?” Jean asked. I reverted back to hating his existence now he was adding to my misery.

“Ah, uh... it's... I restock shelves, that's all.” Another ten points to House Yeager!

Armin was satisfied with that. He lamented over how unlucky I was that they'd need me so late to help out, and the conversation moved on, back to the party. My heart didn't resume its normal beat for several minutes after.

“Was the place a wreck in the morning?” I asked, eager to move far, far away from the topic of me.

“A little. Jean helped me clean up.” There was a pause. “Ah- that is he... he stayed over, on the couch, and-”

“Okay?” I said simply, watching the two of them exchange another look.

Were they both blushing?

“Thanks, Jean. For helping Armin out.”

“It was my pleasure.”

I thought I heard Armin squeak at that. Looking back and forth between them I was convinced there was a neon sign flashing some kind of message in my direction. Whatever it was, I wasn't getting it.

The bell for afternoon classes rang out and the three of us parted ways. I had Chemistry, Armin and Jean had English. I watched them walk off together laughing and joking, hoping the penny would drop the longer I stared. It didn't.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It still hadn't by the time I got into Armin's car for a lift home. He looked a little nervous, like he had something to tell me, and I was honestly grateful for the opportunity for him to spell it out for me. I wasn't going to piece it together anytime soon. We headed out for some cheap, fast food as I was always ravenous after school, and when we sat down with our orders he began to reveal the details.

“So, Eren... what... do you think of Jean?”

“Huh? Are you seriously asking me that?” My voice was incredulous. What kind of question was that? “You know what I think of him. He's a horse-face, and an arrogant asshole too. He's so up his own backside, I'm surprised there's room for anything other than the colossal broom holding him upright.” When the floodgates opened they were hard to close.

“E-Eren...”

“Mhm?” I paused my tirade just long enough to stuff a couple more fries into my mouth.

He leaned forward, pushing the remainder of his burger to the side, staring intently at the table. I had enough intuition to know something big was going to come.

“...Promise you wont... freak out?” He spoke so quietly I barely heard him over the chatter of the other patrons.

“You know me, Armin. You can tell me anything. Whatever it is I pro-”

I didn't get to finish.

In a great rush he spoke, closing his eyes and almost shouting it out, as if the words wouldn't stay locked up inside him any longer.

“Oh.” I said dumbly.

“Is that all you can say?” He looked at me then, searching my face as he did earlier, looking for the emotion, the real response, where my words were lacking. “We _kissed_.” He repeated for the sake of clarity.

“You and, uh, Jean?”

“Yes. Me and Jean.”

There were several snotty remarks I wanted to say.

Was it on purpose?

I didn't know you liked horses.

Just how drunk were you?

“...Couldn't you have chosen someone more attractive?” Whoops.

He blushed, looking away from me. “There was. I gave up waiting for him to notice me. I don't even think he's like... that.”

“I didn't think _you_ were.” I mused, slurping on the last of my drink noisily. “Not that it matters! Just... really, _Jean Kirstein_?”

I couldn't tell if Armin was frustrated or relieved by my response. I opted for a mixture of both by the way he knotted his brows and smiled at the same time. I'd never seen him smile like that before. It was kind of cute. It was the kind of coy smile you can't resist, it just pulls at your lips as if attached to a string.

I wanted to pull the string myself and see where it leads.

“Yes, Jean Kirstein.” He imitated the way I said his name.

I was caught between being happy for my friend and mortified by his poor choice.

“It happened at the party, after you left.”

“Did you... was it... was it more than just a kiss?”

“No!” Armin shrieked, covering his cheeks. He was so red I was tempted to throw the ice in my drink over him to put the fire out. “It was only a kiss!”

“Did your grandpa never tell you? A kiss is where it starts.” I teased. I was enjoying watching him far too much.

“Eren! Are you not... are you not surprised? Or grossed out? Anything?” He glossed over my gentle ribbing, throwing another hefty question at me.

“I am grossed out.” I admitted, watching his face fall. It was a cruel thing to do but I couldn't help it. I needed some fun out of this, even if it was at his expense. “I mean, Jean Kirstein? Of all the people?”

“Do you really have to say his name like that? Just Jean works.”

“Just Jean, then.” The look he gave me – if he were anyone else it would wither flowers. “Why not Reiner?”

“...Have you seen the size of him?”

“That's a little below the belt for you.”

“I don't mean that! He would crush me.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, you have a point. I mean, Just Jean is still a lot taller than you but he lacks the muscle Reiner has I suppose.”

“Are you really okay with this?”

I nodded. “I am really okay with it. I'm happy for you, Armin.”

“Thank you, Eren.” Oh, his face. His big blue eyes looked like they could rival the ocean in that moment.

I wondered how long he'd been hiding his sexuality, or if he'd actually hidden it at all and I just failed to notice the signs. I felt like there were probably clear indicators all over the place and I'd just managed to miss them all as usual.

You know that they say – ignorance is bliss.

“Does this mean I'll be seeing a lot more of him, too?” I asked, scrunching my face up. “Instead of lunch with you, it'll be you and him?”

“You think you can handle that?”

“I guess. If it makes you happy, I can.”

“Try for me, that's all I ask. You know, I'm glad I got to talk to you like this. I feel like I can really tell you anything.”

No. No, no, no.

He was turning this around. I didn't like the change of direction at all. “Armin-”

“I know you're hiding something from me.” He looked stern. So, the little lie about work didn't go unnoticed.

Shit.

I sat back in the booth, slinging my arm over the back of the plush seating.

I was avoiding his eyes.

I was running from him by watching the families and friends around us, laughing together and stuffing their faces with fries and nuggets and burgers. I wondered how they'd feel, knowing they shared a space with someone like me.

A boy who turned out on the weekends to pleasure others for money.

I wondered how many husbands and boyfriends and loving fathers of these people I'd been involved with. I thought about that as I thought about telling Armin the truth. As always, something held me back.

I didn't have many friends.

Even less family. Armin, Mikasa, my father. Two of the three weren't even in the same area. I guess I should include Jean in that circle now he was apparently with Armin. But that was all.

Sure, I knew others – Sasha, Connie, Annie, Reiner, Bertholdt – but we weren't friends that could share and confide. If I told Armin, would he abandon me?

I liked to think he wouldn't. I liked to believe he would call me stupid and reckless but not leave me. He confided in me his greatest secret; liking another boy was a big deal, especially for him, especially when that was the biggest secret you had.

My own... felt like much more than that.

I fucked them.

For money.

Armin didn't even know I was gay. I still had that hurdle to cross with him and right now, so soon after his own revelation, it felt wrong to steal his thunder.

When I finally brought my attention back to him I smiled faintly, trying to reassure him as I pulled away from my own thoughts. “It's nothing to worry about, honestly.”

“I know you're lying.” He said pointedly, “But I'm really not going to push it with you. Just... I want you to know you can tell me anything, too. You do know that, right?”

“I know that.” I tried to sound earnest. I _was_ earnest.

I know he wasn't satisfied with that response. Yet he also knew there was no helping it, so he let it go. I was sure that probably wouldn't be the last time he tried though.

My phone blared into life then, saving me from an awkward aftermath. I fished it out of my pocket, glaring at the screen when I saw the caller ID.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

“W-Who is it?” Armin asked, worried. I must have been wearing quite the expression.

“I'm sorry, Armin. Wait here. I'll be back in a sec.” I shot him an apologetic look, answering the call as I shuffled out of the booth. I stepped outside before I even spoke. “What?”

“Hey sweetie!” Hange chimed down the line, ignoring my less than polite response. “You know, you're quickly becoming Mr. Popular! I don't know how you've done it, but I've got someone who wants to see you again.”

I hesitated.

There was the worm dangling from the hook. I wasn't hungry, I swear. I'd only just eaten.

“Who is it?” I was sniffing at it

“Your new favorite customer. He'd like to see you on Wednesday, in fact...”

“I don't do weekday calls.” I said bluntly. I wasn't even willing to entertain the idea.

“...Which I told him, of course. And then he upped the price...”

“No. Hange, no. Tell me you didn't.” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the rise of anxiety from the pit of my stomach.

“Don't be like that, sweetie! Think of the money! It's a good deal for us both.”

“What time?” I asked, closing my eyes as self-hatred ruled supreme.

“9pm, on the dot.”

I clenched my teeth. “Fine. Fine!”

“Excellent,” They chimed. I'd fallen into their trap, I knew it. “Text you the details!” Hange hung up, leaving me to seethe alone.

Oh, Hange. They were a good manager in all honesty.

Hange took a cut of all my earnings as payment for setting up the appointments. It was done by credit card, a means to ensure that the customer was legit before I even got involved.

If they failed to pay the deposit, the appointment was immediately cancelled. There was, of course, a certain level of risk involved that they wouldn't pay my share on arrival, which was always cash.

Luckily for me, Hange was good at sourcing reliable clients and so far, it was yet to be an issue. I didn't know what percentage Hange took of my earnings but I was never left feeling short changed. I was quite satisfied with the money I took home, which I placed in a box beneath my bed.

I didn't trust banks.

I sighed deeply and walked back into the restaurant, wondering how somewhere that served food on trays could ever be labelled so highly, and apologised for my absence. Armin shrugged, asked if I was finished – I was – and we collected our things and headed for the car.

“Eren.” He said my name with a heavy breath and I felt myself tense. “You'd tell me if you were doing anything...unusual, right?”

“You keep asking, Armin.” I snapped. I didn't mean to, but he really wouldn't let it go, and I needed him to stop. “Let's not focus on me, okay? The important thing today is you. My gay friend.”

“Ah! You don't need to say it like that!”

I may not be the brightest tool in the box but I felt I derailed the conversation from myself rather well that time. “Well, it's true, isn't it?”

“I guess it is.”

“So, you said you gave up on the prettier one earlier. What was he like?”

Armin started the car up. “Dense. Very, very dense.”

 


	5. The Clothes Maketh The Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say thank you for everyone's patience over the last two weeks my beloved editor worked on another chapter so I could do a double post. I hope this makes up for the lack of regular posting recently!
> 
> After this the normal once a week schedule will resume!
> 
> Finally, thank you to everyone who has commented, subscribed and left kudos. You all are helping to make me feel very excited over sharing this story. It means so much to me. Thank you!

After school on Tuesday I hitched a ride into town on the bus.

I could afford to get myself a car and I probably should have one. The only thing holding me back from that was the cost of running the things. I slipped Armin some money every month to help pay for gas but beyond that I resented the sheer amount of money they sucked up.

Sure, it would make parts of my life easier – such as the weekly (I use the term loosely) food shopping and getting around to appointments. On the other hand, I would need to worry about finding parking spaces and people recognising my number plate. In the end, I always came back to the same conclusion.

It wasn't worth it, regardless of my finances.

The bus wasn't bad.

I stared out the window, writing a mental list of things I needed to pick up as the scenery whizzed by. Top of said list was plain smelling soaps.

I wasn't overly happy about going back to the apartment for a third time, and on a Wednesday no less, but for two hundred bucks for what would probably only turn out to be an hour of work, I really didn't have much cause for complaint.

It didn't even feel like work.

I played around with a duster and a cloth until he kicked me out.

What did I have to worry about?

The awkward boner I was left with, for a start.

Inside the supermarket, I was greeted by overly bright lighting and announcements over the speakers about various offers, delivered by a woman who was seriously too excited about buy-one-get-one-free detergent. How could anyone be that excited for detergent? It was a goddamn cleaning product.

That said, I figured the good ol' Corporal on the 54th floor would be excited. Maybe I should introduce them.

I smirked as I collected a cart and pushed it along, eyes brushing the shelves in search of inspiration. I didn't want fresh vegetables and fruit. Deep down I knew I should get those things, but I wasn't about to give in to that whimsy.

There were much better things down the frozen aisle, things that lasted more than a couple of days, and since I had no intention of coming back here until my fridge was pitifully empty once more, I needed stuff that would last.

With my cart loaded up with goodies for the freezer I headed for the cosmetics, eyes peeled for the fragrance-free range. I swear, the things I went through for clients.

Thankfully the majority supplied their own extras. Whether they wanted food play or outfits and anything in between, the expenditure was rarely mine.

For this one guy, I was making exceptions all over the place.

I threw some other things into my cart and headed for the checkout, the task completed for another week at last. I booked myself a cab for the way home, not wanting to juggle with the bus and several bags of shopping.

 

* * *

 

I grumbled loudly as I forced the freezer door shut, and I'm certain by sheer willpower alone it held fast. I walked away in triumph, mentally congratulating myself on a job well done. Next on the to-do list was revise for the English test tomorrow, and finish (or rather, start on) the History homework.

I was going to be losing an evening of my time, which meant double the work load tonight.

I groaned audibly as I threw my books on the dining room table. Flipping the radio on to give me some background entertainment, I settled in for a long night of study.

I interspersed my reading with bouts of (out of tune) singing and chair dancing, anything to stop my mind turning to mush as it swirled with facts I struggled to commit to memory. If only it was as easy to remember this stuff as it was the Corporal's face.

That I’d committed to memory easily enough apparently.

I'd taken to calling him that, in my head only. I wasn't ready to say it out loud.

It felt silly.

He did give me the choice, though, and 'Sir' was infinitely easier to manage. I was familiar with that term.

The only other name I had to go by was No. 57 – the assigned number, given by Hange to identify each client. The Corporal was No. 57. It was entirely up to him if he told me his true name. I suspect most made up identifies for themselves, and in choosing a title, the Corporal was no different.

It created a sense of mystery between myself and the client.

Like a wall, it separated reality from fantasy.

All hopes of study were off the table as I sank into musing over the Corporal. It didn't take all that much to distract me from my reading anyway.

 _The Chronicles of Narnia_ was not exactly my kind of book.

I gave up the pretence eventually, resting my head on top of my books as if I may somehow begin to absorb the knowledge that way.

If it worked, I would never need to study again. I wouldn't need to work, either. I'd be a literal genius.

People would pay me just for a chance to see my wondrous ability. There'd be talk shows and special interviews in glossy magazines with my face presented on a double page spread, the main feature, the front cover even.

The only wondrous thing was how I managed to get any decent grades at all with my constant mental tangents.

That was twice in under five minutes.

A new record.

By now my thirst for knowledge was all but non-existent, with no sign of returning. Did I mourn the loss? Not overly. I lifted my head from the table, hearing the distant call of the fridge. Singing along with the radio, I grooved my way through the living room, heeding the call and digging out another slice of pizza from the fridge to stuff in my throat.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday evening.

I was standing in the living room of the dimly lit apartment, home to my most peculiar client yet. Dressed in the same figure hugging white jeans, leather boots, and shirt he'd put me in last time, I almost felt comfortable.

He wore much the same, albeit his shirt was off-white and a button up, and around his neck was what I believed to be a cravat. It rose him to a higher level of elegance than I'd known previously, and to me it appeared a clear marker between our two states; he was drawing a line between us, placing me well and truly lower.

I didn't mind.

I was just an expensive cleaner, no matter how you dressed me up.

Only this time was different. There was something else.

He stood in front of me, one gloved hand resting on the back of The Chair. The other was holding a small brown, leather jacket with an emblem I couldn't quite make out, but would later understand to be two swords crossed over what I presumed was the shape of a shield.

Not the round kind. The other kind.

Look, I never paid attention in history, I didn't think this kind of shit would come up.

What surprised me the most was that he was talking.

Properly. Not just small sentences that were intended to direct me where he wanted, but explaining in detail what I assumed was important information.

I was trying to focus, honestly I was, but I was also fighting the surge of elation I felt watching his small mouth move as much as it was now.

I was hypnotized by it.

“You are free to walk out the door at any point. I understand that what I am asking you for is unconventional, perhaps even by your standards.” He was regarding me closely when he said that, but I ignored the thinly veiled barb. I could take a jab or two at my profession. “I would like to explain to you first what it is I want, and then you are free to decide if you're willing to try or not.”

I nodded. “Sounds fair.”

“That, what you are wearing now. It will be your uniform. As will this jacket,” he raised it slightly, drawing my attention back to it.

He passed it to me and I took it, bemused as he was careful to avoid touching my fingers.

The jacket was cropped, the hemline stopping about halfway down my torso, and snug on my arms, like it was made specifically for me. It gave me a sense of purpose, somehow made me feel like I was strong, enrolled in some secret military organisation or something. It made me straighten up, my head held high and my eyes meeting his gaze head on.

“Do you have any questions so far?” He prompted.

“What am I being trained to do, exactly?”

“That depends entirely on how things go.” He sounded wistful, momentarily breaking eye contact, distracted by whatever thought pulled inside his head. I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to get inside, beneath his skin.

Find out what made him tick.

If he would let me.

He probably wouldn't.

“We'll carry on as we have been, since your cleaning is atrocious. That's all you need to know for now.”

“Yes, Sir.” I felt like I should salute. He shook his head at me after casting a shadowy look my way, and awkwardly I trudged to the kitchen, wondering if I would ever _get it right_ by his standards _._

What he told me was essentially nothing. I would come here and clean for the foreseeable future, only privy to the knowledge of what was being built up to if I managed to get that far.

I would have to earn it.

I knew one thing. That's where my bucket was.

It felt strangely familiar in my grasp as I entered back into the living room, pulling the cloth from around my neck to cover my face, surveying the space for an area I'd yet to put a duster to. My eyes flickered to the table and I blushed hotly beneath the fabric, suddenly grateful for it being there.

I recalled how I'd bent myself over in front of him there. It earned me a swift exit, sure, but my ass still tingled at the memory of his foot on me. That was the closest to touching we'd been. For a man who didn't want to spend our time together talking either, it was certainly new. Different.

My clients normally wanted to get their hands on me the moment I walked through the door. No. I wasn't going to think of them tonight.

It was me and the Corporal and my bucket of cleaning supplies, alone in a room that I was convinced didn't need anything done to it at all.

Well. Thinking about it wasn't going to make the time go any quicker. I started where I always did, by the door, and worked my way around from there.

I stole glances over at the Corporal whenever I could. He was engrossed in a book, a crease between his brows as he concentrated. Judging by the split in the pages he was halfway through.

My chest tightened at the sight of him. I'd only seen him reading newspapers. I felt I learned something about him. I tried my best to catch the title of what he was reading. My effort was in vain, a waste of time, because I couldn't understand it for shit when I did see. It took several goes to get the full title; _Les liaisons dangereuses_. What.

French?

I'd dropped French. Languages were not my forte. I struggled enough with the one I was born into sometimes.

“I understand you don't normally work weekdays.”

The sound of his voice made my blood freeze over. It was unexpected, breaking the silence between us and pulling me clean out of my thoughts.

Was he... starting a conversation?

“Ah... Hange tell you that? I prefer weekends only, but I can make exceptions.” _Apparently you were pushy_ , I thought, managing to keep it behind closed doors. He didn't strike me much as the humorous type anyway.

I could still remember our first encounter – my little remark earned me quite the look. I wasn't ready to have his eyes look at me that way so soon.

I accepted this appointment for the money. I needed some new clothes. It definitely had absolutely nothing to do with my curiosity over him. Not one bit.

“I understand you must have other commitments,” The way he said the last word made me think about the other meanings to it, like he was saying more than he actually was, “So I appreciate you being here tonight.” As he spoke, he never took his eyes from the book in his lap.

I used the chance to look at him, properly, uninterrupted, and found myself unable to look away.

There was an undeniable magnetism to him.

He carried an air of authority, commanding attention despite his lack of stature, or perhaps because of it.

His features were cut of stone. He was a walking, breathing, living piece of art. A piece of art that I could spend hours observing and be no closer to understanding. And yet I felt the time would not be wasted, but well spent.

I liked his face. I liked the rest of his body, too, but in particular I liked his face.

He was striking to look at, especially with those eyes. The feeling I got whenever he deemed me worthy enough to look at was indescribable.

Then there was his hair. I'd noticed the undercut, the close shave at the back of his neck, the retro style alarmingly seductive on him. I wondered how it would feel beneath my fingers, if it would be soft or rough to the touch. I wondered about how his voice would sound, wrapping around my name in heated passion.

Ahh... my stomach bottomed out as I imagined it.

It was like going too fast down the other side of a hill, a sweeping sensation that left me momentarily breathless.

It was something I wasn't likely to ever hear. The client's never knew my real name.

To them, I was _Scout_. I didn't choose it – Hange did.

“Thanks for the uniform.” I said, instantly feeling dumb the moment the words left my lips.

It wasn't even relevant.

I didn't know what else to say.

What he said next, however, melted my embarrassment away.

I was left with a different feeling instead, one I couldn't quite explain.

“You're welcome. Brat.”

 

* * *

 

Thursday morning rolled around all too quickly.

The alarm shrieked at me loudly until I managed to fumble well enough to turn it the fuck off.

I groaned loudly at it, not yet able to form coherent words to accurately tell it how I felt, and stumbled my way into the bathroom for my morning shower. In the end, I only managed around three hours of sleep.

It was enough, I told myself.

I then doubted that as I attempted to wash my hair with body soap. Today was going to be fun.

“You... don't look so great.” Armin said hesitantly as I fell into the passenger seat. “What the heck did you do last night?”

The _heck_. He was too cute for his own good. He was certainly too cute for Jean. Anything was too cute for Jean.

Ugh. It was too early to think about him.

“I cleaned.” My voice sounded groggy, even to me.

“Must've been some intense cleaning.”

I yawned, nestling into the seat. “Wake me up when we get there.”

“Don't be so lazy. Have you been to see your Mom recently?”

I made a noise in the back of my throat.

“Eren! You really ought to go. Have you been since the anniversary?”

“...No...” Oh, the guilt. It really did feel like a knife, and it cut deep.

“I can go with you if you want.”

“Mhm. I'd like that.”

He was right about seeing her. I should go soon.

I fell asleep with that thought in mind.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Armin said, pulling his keys from the ignition. I swore the journey to school was shorter than it should be.

“Fuck off.” I muttered, still half asleep. I opened my eyes when Armin punched my arm, laughing out an apology as I picked up my bag from the foot well. “Aren't you supposed to wake me with a kiss if I'm Sleeping Beauty?” I said teasingly.

Armin flushed. “That would be weird, Eren. Why did you decide to spend your evening cleaning to the point of exhaustion, anyway?”

“Ah... you know, sometimes the bug just _gets you_.”

He looked doubtful. I was doubtful of my excuse, too, despite it not being a complete lie. He'd seen my bedroom. He knew the state I lived in.

“Is that so...” He said, trailing off. He'd resigned himself not to push for details when we spoke the other day, and I sensed now was one such moment. He was holding back, for my sake.

As we got out the car Armin surveyed the parking lot, rising up in his tiptoes as if it made a difference.

“Are you expecting someone?” I asked.

“Hm? Oh, not really. Shall we go in?”

“Yeah...” I furrowed my brows but said nothing more. If he wasn't pushing for details I wouldn't, either.

My first lesson was English, and the test I took on Tuesday was marked and staring back up at me on the desk. The letter in red pen circled in one corner of the page must have been a mistake.

_D._

I knew I wasn't the best at English, spoken or otherwise, but I thought I was better than a _D_. Not to say I didn't like D's, under the right circumstances.

I'm sorry. That was bad.

I sunk in my chair, though not as low as Connie did. He failed. Completely. I felt kind of sorry for him; he didn't even comprehend the problem. Looking over my answers again, I could see the improvements I could make at least. I really only had myself to blame for this.

He leaned over in his seat, spying my grade. “Wow, Eren.”

“What?” I snapped, sensing from his tone what he was about to say.

“You sucked as well.”

“Not as hard as you.” I retorted. I was too tired for this shit.

By lunch time, I was crawling. I bagged myself an energy drink to get me through the final hours of school. I didn't normally drink them – but desperate times meant desperate measures.

“Eren!”

I looked up to the sound of my name. Armin. Of course.

“Hello, Yeager.” And Jean. Of course.

I steeled my face into the best smile I could manage, drowning any bitter comments I had with taurine. “Hey, guys.”

“Man, you look like hell.” Jean said, setting his tray down next to Armin's. They sat opposite me. I already wanted today to be over. Now I was really done with it.

“Thanks.” I said simply, then added, “You look just as shit as normal.”

“Eren...” Armin's tone was chastising. “How was your English exam?”

I hated how Armin was more up to date with my education than I was. “Got the grade back today.”

“And?”

Why did I feel like I was presenting my grades to my parents?

“I got a D.” Oh, the shame. Armin's face made it ten times worse. I actually thought he would ground me.

“You need to try harder, Eren. What about your further education? Don't you want to go to college?”

Ah, this conversation. Not one I wanted to have in front of Jean.

“I'm not... going to college.” I said. It's the first time I'd admitted it. As far as Armin was concerned, we were working hard to study in the same college. And I just revealed that that would not be the case.

“Oh.”

My heart twisted in my chest, and not entirely due to the large amount of caffeine pulsing in my system.

“I'm sorry, Armin. I want to go travelling with my dad.” I admitted, staring down at the table, at the empty food tray in front of me. “I'm saving up to see the world. My grades don't really matter. As soon as I have the money, I'm out of here.”

“We-Well, even so,” I could see he was trying hard to pull himself together, “You should work hard on your grades. You never know when you might need them.”

“Thanks for being worried, Armin.”

“You're an asshole.” Jean snarled.

_What the fuck was that?_

“You could've said it better than that.” He pointed his finger at me. I was tempted to bite it off. I would if he kept on. He kept on. My ability to keep in control of myself was tested. “You know how Armin felt about going to college with you. You two are childhood friends, and you go and drop a big deal like that like it's nothing?”

“It's none of your fucking business, horse-face.” I retorted.

The fuck was Armin telling him all this shit for? They'd been dating less than a week, and suddenly he knew everything about us? Damn, that pissed me off.

“It is my business.”

“Fuck you, Kirstein.” I stood up swiftly, nearly knocking the chair out from under me in my haste. This conversation was over.

Armin spluttered half-formed sentences as he tried to cool the heat between us but it was too late.

I wasn't listening. I was already gone, slamming my empty can into the bin on my way out of the cafeteria.

I regretted my outburst once I'd walked it out of my system. The guilt dug like sharp stones in my feet with every step I took. I'd been an asshole to Armin. He didn't deserve any of that.

Jean did, but not Armin.

The Biology class wasn't due to start for sometime. I was alone in the empty classroom, chewing my lip as my temper waned.

I fished my phone out my pocket. I was never good at apologies.

Tapping out a short message, I used the power of modern technology to apologise to Armin.

By the time the response came through the lesson had started.

The sigh of relief that left me when the final bell rang was immense. My bag hung off me like a heavy weight, my feet barely lifting from the ground, everything too much effort. The vision of going home and falling on my bed the only thing I could think about clearly. I could envision it so clearly it was as though the mattress were already under me.

Soon, my friend.

 _Soon_.

“...Hey.” Armin greeted me, by his car.

Ah. I never looked at his reply.

I kicked at the pavement with my foot, launching a stone into the air. For the second that it travelled in the air I prayed it wouldn't hit someone's car. It landed safely on the ground. No damage done.

“I'm an ass. I should have told you sooner.” I said at last.

“You got that much right.”

“Are you... really angry at me?”

“I'm hurt, Eren, not angry.” He said honestly, sighing. The twisting knot was back in my chest. “You're keeping so many secrets from me lately. Do you really not feel like you can talk to me any more?”

I felt sick to my stomach. “No! That's not it at all. I didn't know how to bring it up, that's all. I'm sorry. Armin, I'm really sorry.”

“I told you my biggest secret. You have got to start trusting me too, Eren. I'm your friend, aren't I?”

I nodded, not trusting the sound of my voice.

“You stupid idiot. Don't give up on your studies completely, promise me?”

I bit into my lip, feeling like the reprimanded child I was. Armin was right. He was my friend; it was about time I started to show him the same level of respect, and trust him.

“I promise I'll work harder. It was just one D.”

He seemed satisfied with that, opening the car door and getting in. I followed suit. “I'll get you the gas money tomorrow.”

“You know, I figured there was a reason why you weren't getting a car. It makes sense now.”

I shrank back into my seat. “They cost too much. I need the money for other things.”

“Backpacking with your dad around the world – that's pretty ambitious, Eren. How is your dad doing, by the way?”

“Ah, last I heard he was in Europe.” I recalled the last time he wrote to me. “He said he'd try to make it back in time for Christmas.”

“That'll be good. If he can't, you know you're welcome to spend it with us.”

It was a genuine offer, and I thanked Armin for it. He was always looking out for me. And with that I felt even guiltier for my outburst. “Um, Armin...”

“Yeah?”

“I'll...” I couldn't believe I was about to say this. I took a deep breath. “I'll try harder to be nicer to Jean, too.”

“Thank you, Eren.” Armin sounded relieved, patting my upper arm. “I appreciate that. A lot.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well!? What did you think?
> 
> Thank you for reading it so far and I hope you'll take a moment to leave your thoughts.
> 
> See you in the next chapter...?


	6. Two's Company. Three's A Crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M E R R Y  
> C H R I S T M A S  
> E V E R Y O N E ! ! !
> 
> A massive thank you to all of you who have been reading this! Your feedback has been amazing.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the rest. I sincerely look forward to your responses to the events!

 

The coffee shop was filled with the aroma of coffee beans, the hiss of the machines rising above the quiet chatter and the clink of china. I didn't drink coffee much myself but I loved the smell of it. Personally, I preferred hot chocolate, with a more than generous helping of cream on top.

Hange was with me, occupying the chair across from me, an organizer opened on the table in front of them. I couldn't make out the scrawl on the pages, and several things were circled or underlined or crossed out.

Organized chaos at its finest.

We were having a meeting.

All our meetings were conducted in this place. Hange liked the coffee, they told me on the one occasion I bothered to ask. It still seemed surreal and a little silly to me to conduct our kind of meeting in such a public place, yet here I was, sipping hot chocolate and discussing appointments.

“You're still ranking high in the takings,” Hange said, looking over figures on their phone, I presumed, “No. 57 is quite taken with you.”

“I guess so.” I shrugged, thinking about the time I spent with him. I'd seem him twice more since that Wednesday, booked out on a Friday one week and the Saturday the next. Mr. 33 was booked in for the Saturday before last, one of my favourites.

He wasn't complicated at all to deal with and he was relatively quick, too, booking two hour slots and rarely taking half of that to finish up.

Today was Saturday, and last night I was booked out to No. 10, whom I wasn't so keen on. He could be a bit rough, pulling my hair and forcing me down to the mattress, pounding into me until my head rattled. It felt good, don't get me wrong. But damn was I sore the following day.

“Whatever you're doing with him it's definitely working. He phoned last night while you were otherwise engaged.”

“Did he?” I furrowed my brows at that.

“He was quite upset when I told him you weren't available. He's booked you tonight, though.”

“How long for?”

“Same as always. He pays for the whole night.”

I choked on my drink, spluttering and frantically covering my mouth with a napkin. “The whole night?” I wheezed.

“...Yes. Eren, have you not been checking the payments?”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. I wiped the spit from my mouth. “Honestly, I haven't. There's no way... I only spend an hour, maybe two maximum, round there. Why the hell is he paying for the entire night?”

“I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He's doing wonders for us both financially, so whatever you're doing keep it up.”

“...Do you really have no idea what he asks me to do?” I could feel my blush. I couldn't look Hange in the face as I spoke. The fact I was even considering telling them was something I was sure to regret.

“I really don't think this is neither the time nor the place-”

“Cleaning.”

“...I'm sorry?”

“Cleaning.” I said again, a little louder. “I clean. I dust, I mop, I do dishes. He even has this... this outfit. Hange, no, stop laughing. I'm serious! Hange!”

People were looking over in our direction, at the way Hange was punching the table in mirth, a merry stream of laughter erupting from them. They were an odd sort, was Hange, and I couldn't blame the other patrons for looking at us.

“Eren... my dear, sweet Eren! Have you two not even...? Not once? You only _clean_?”

“Hange... is there something wrong with me?” I asked quietly, staring down into the last of my drink dejectedly. “He tosses me out whenever I try to get close to him. The most contact we've had was his foot on my ass – and it wasn't even kinky.” It felt good, I recalled, at first anyway. Then I was promptly ordered to leave. Since then I kind of gave up seducing him.

All I was was an expensive maid, cleaning an already clean apartment.

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetie.” Hange's hand wrapped over mine on the mug. “Absolutely nothing wrong at all. He's asked to book you on a regular basis – something tells me that he very much likes you.”

“Thanks.” I mumbled, not believing it. Not really. Not when it felt like he made some kind of mockery out of me, like my job was some kind of joke to him.

“Oh, fuck no.” My thoughts shattered as panic swept over me. Over Hange's shoulder I spied a pair of familiar faces, and as I was looking one of them spotted me. A series of muffled cusses emptied into the air, much to Hange's bewilderment, as our eyes met across the store. “Shit, shit, fuck, shit, shit!”

“What is it?” Hange asked, staring at me with the twinkle in their eye.

I wanted to hide. It was too late for that – the shorter of the two smiled and waved, grabbing his cup from the barista and hurrying over.

“Armin! And Jean. Nice day for coffee, isn't it?” I tried to keep the nervous strain out of my voice. Whether or not I succeeded was down to personal opinion.

“Y-Yeah...” Armin looked from me to Hange and back again. “I didn't think you liked coffee.”

“I don't... I ordered a hot chocolate.” I replied plainly. “So, uh, what're you guys doing here?”

“Getting drinks. Eren, are you... are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, fine. You know what it's about time I-”

“Hey there. I don't think we've met.” Jean reached across, holding his hand out for Hange, cutting through my frantic words and leaving me no choice but to remain. My world bottomed out in that moment.

I felt physically sick.

My vision was darkening. My mind was both racing through a million thoughts and nothing at all, a wall of static.

Not missing a beat Hange shook Jean's hand. “I'm Hange. Nice to meet you.”

“Jean.”

“I'm Armin!”

My two worlds were colliding. No, they were shaking hands. They were shaking fucking hands like civilized people. As if this wasn't a meeting between a pimp and their best whore. Well, I thought of myself as their best anyway. It didn't matter right now. The fact was the three of them should never have met in the first place.

“Okay well! As wonderful as it was to meet you lovely people I simply must be on my way. Things to do, people to meet! ‘Til next time, Eren.” Hange packed up their organizer, slipped the pencil back onto their ear and left. I envied them so much for being able to avoid the inevitable 100 questions I would now be left with.

Jean and Armin were already moving into the vacated space, eyes glued to me.

“She seemed nice.” Jean said, looking pointedly at me.

“Y-Yeah, Hange isn't so bad.”

“You seemed to know each other quite well.” Armin said.

I looked at him, attempting to decipher the look on his face. I couldn't read it for shit. “I suppose. I've known them awhile.”

“Did we... interrupt a date?” Armin asked.

“Ah, shit Eren. Did we just blow your romantic afternoon?” Jean scoffed.

“Hah... Haha!” The laughter ripped from my throat, dry and full of nervous relief.

A date! Thank fuck for that.

“I guess you did.” I said as I recovered.

“I didn't know you were dating someone! I thought you were single.” Armin looked over his shoulder to the door of the coffee shop, but Hange was long gone. “She's pretty. How long have you two been an item, then? You said you'd known her awhile?”

Oh. It was going to be a long afternoon.

 

* * *

 

 

After spending the rest of my day telling Jean and Armin all about the “girlfriend” Hange, I must admit I was mentally exhausted. It was better than what I expected from one of my close friends meeting my manager (I preferred that term to pimp), yet it was an encounter I never wanted to happen.

Even now that it came to pass, I was still reeling with the shock, my hands shaking as I unlocked the front door and stumbled in. I closed the front door, leaning on it and letting out a heavy sigh. Fucking hell. What a day. And I still had my 9:00 appointment with the Corporal to drag my ass through.

I bathed in the fragrance-free products he seemed to like and donned some basic clothes - tight fitting grey jeans and a plain black t-shirt – and headed downstairs to wait for my cab, almost forgetting to grab a jacket on my way out. This was one night I wouldn't come home cold.

When I arrived at the apartment complex I hopped out, tipping the driver and sauntering over to the glass doors. The buzzer sounded, the door clicked, and in I went.

The door was partially open and I headed straight inside. He was sitting in his chair, book in hand.

“Go change.” He said, not looking up.

“Yes, Sir.” I knew the drill. I headed for the usual room, found my uniform already laid out and waiting for me. I quite liked it now, though as I changed, I thought of Hange's laughter as I told them what I did here. They were always so curious to know what happened between me and my more... unusual clients.

It was kind of weird. I didn't indulge them all the time on it. As time went on I started to accept that everyone was kinky in their own way, and I stopped worrying that what I was being asked to do was peculiar.

Except for now.

This really was strange.

I walked out of the bedroom hesitantly, the doubt over what I was being tasked with creeping over me with every step I took. My conversation with Hange echoed in my mind. I inched toward the kitchen, stealing a glance in his direction.

He was near the end of _Les liaisons dangereuses_. I couldn't help but glare at the book, despising it for stealing attention that should be aimed at me.

“What is it, brat?” He said suddenly, breaking the illusion that he hadn't noticed me looking at him.

“N-Nothing. Sorry, Sir.” I passed into the kitchen with meaningful strides. I picked up the dish cloth. I walked back into the living room. “It's just that... I don't understand.” I blurted out.

“What is it you don't understand?”

“What you want me here for.” I murmured, fiddling with the cloth in my hands. I lost my nerve when he looked at me. When those grey eyes locked onto their prey, seizing it in a stormy sea. My stomach tossed and turned so much as if I were on choppy waters myself.

A shiver trailed down my spine as our eyes finally met. Shit. There was no backing out of this now.

“Is that so?” He said calmly.

“...Yeah,” I was struggling to find my words. My boldness was gone now he was piercing me with that look. I had to try. Taking a deep breath, I pulled every ounce of myself together and spoke again, “It's... just... I come here, and I clean for you. But your apartment is already clean. I wear these clothes and I call you Sir. Y-you don't look at me though, or talk to me, or... or touch me.” My voice faltered. I couldn't look at him as I said the last part. “...You spend all this money... for nothing... I don't... get it.”

“It's not for you to get, brat.”

I winced. “Y-You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to...” I didn't know how to finish. I genuinely was sorry, too. I opened my big mouth like a stupid child, behaving like the _brat_ he thought I was, unable to be satisfied by simply being in his company and taking his money.

I had to want something more than that. What the fuck was I trying to prove? What was the point I was trying to make?

I wasn't here to fulfil my own desires.

I was here to fulfil his – whatever they were. He couldn't care less about what I wanted, and nor should he.

I was a fucking idiot for pushing it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, retreating back into the kitchen like a scolded puppy to escape the tension I caused. I filled the sink and washed the few dishes left on the side timidly, dragging the dish cloth over each one. I probably... wouldn't be seeing him again now.

Any moment and he would come in and kick me out for being an obnoxious shit, and that would be that.

Things would return to normal.

My heart rate would slow down and the film of sweat on my palms would evaporate and the fog in my head would clear.

The thought of never seeing him again caused my heart to sink like a rock. I leaned forward, propping myself up at the sink. This was so ridiculous, letting myself get worked up over him.

I just needed to accept it.

He was the one customer I wanted to fuck me and he was the only one who was never going to do it. Whatever the reason was he wouldn't approach me and I was certainly not allowed to approach him.

He didn't want me.

Regardless of what Hange said. I was nothing to him.

“You really are a shitty brat.”

I froze, dish cloth in hand. This was it. Kick out time.

“Don't move. Don't even turn around. Keep your damn hands in the sink.”

“I'm sorry, Sir. I'll leave immedia-”

“Don't speak. Just stand there.” He barked.

I listened to the quiet whisper of his clothes as he moved, closer, closer still. I could hear his intake of breath, the release of it shaky and uncertain. Maybe that was my own breath, caught in my throat as my heart made a run for it, blocking the way.

I trembled as I felt his arms snake around my waist.

They were thin but muscled, his grip firm as he held me taut against him, slowly inching his body against mine until we slotted together, his head coming to rest on the curve of my shoulder.

I could feel the tickle of his hair against my skin and I shuddered, hard.

“You shitty brat.” He whispered a second time, breath hot against my ear, every syllable palpable on my electrified skin. His gloved palms slid awkwardly over my stomach, making me jerk as it tickled. I suppressed the urge, not wanting to ruin the odd moment.

I prayed he wouldn't hear the thundering of my heart. If it beat much harder my ribs would break.

“...S-Sir...?” I whispered, confused.

My hands were wrinkling in the soapy water. What I hoped he couldn't see was the way my knuckles turned white, ringing the cloth beneath the surface, anything to stop me returning his touch. He wasn't kicking me out. He was... inviting me in.

Clarity struck like lightning through the fog in my head, clearing the way for the startling realization. This wasn't a farewell. It was a hello. He was showing me something, throwing me a lifeline, pulling me in when I grabbed onto it with everything I had.

 _Don't let me go_ , I thought fiercely as his fingers pressed tenderly into my sides.

 _Don't let me go_.

Even as he held me tightly I could feel myself falling.

His breathing was unsteady. It shook uncertainly as he breathed out, wavering, labored beneath the weight of whatever thoughts ran through his mind. I wanted to know what worried him. I wanted to know what made him smile, if anything. I wanted to know him.

The Corporal felt undeniably small as he pressed against me, vulnerable somehow. I didn't think it possible to feel so much from so little.

The water grew cold.

The dishes on the side dried.

His fingers twitched.

“...Thank you.” He said, breaking the tranquillity that settled over us.

I smiled at the ceiling, tilting my head back.

I'd come here tonight feeling rejected. Unwanted. All that couldn't be further from me as we separated. How long we stayed like that I couldn't say, and I didn't care. Every part of me that his body touched tingled long after he returned to the living room.

I put the dishes away and emptied the sink, wiping down the surfaces and following after him. He was back in The Chair, exactly the same as when I'd left him earlier, as though he never moved.

I didn't say anything as I went into the spare room and changed. I slipped my jacket on, zipped it up and headed for the door. “I'll see you next week.” I said over my shoulder, picking up the envelope and closing the door as soundlessly as possible.

As the elevator doors closed I caught sight of myself. My reflection sported a grin so wide the Cheshire Cat would have a run for his money. My eyes were glinting, and a healthy glow was upon my cheeks.

The Corporal touched me.

By the time I got home my cheeks were sore.

I didn't care.

I cared about nothing at all, drifting on the elation of my breakthrough with the Corporal.

I yawned wearily, fumbling to get the key in the lock. I was exhausted.

The sky was awash with muted colours as the sun crept up, waking up from its slumber as I was headed to mine, kicking my shoes off when I finally managed to get into the house. I was about to ascend the stairs when I noticed the kitchen light glowing warmly at the end of the hallway.

Funny. I don't remember flicking it on; it was still light out when I left.

My good mood slipped into something else.

“...Dad?” I called out hesitantly.

No, that wouldn't make sense.

He wouldn't fly home without writing to me about it first. My throat when dry as I crept down the hall, checking over my shoulder lest someone try to come at me from behind. “Is that you, Dad?”

“Eren, it's me. Mikasa. Come in the kitchen, we need to talk.”

I controlled myself well enough to suppress the scream of terror as the familiar voice greeted me before I even made it into the kitchen. I rounded the corner in disbelief, eyes widening as the ebony-haired woman at the kitchen table came into view. I'd abandoned that table months ago, to the growing mess of empty cereal boxes and forgotten laundry, but here she was, cleaned up and usable.

The table, that is. Not Mikasa.

“...Mikasa! What are you... I wasn't expecting...” I didn't know which sentence to start with so I went with a mixture of all my choices. Tonight was turning out to be great, far better than expected. “It's been months!”

“Yeah,” She smiled faintly, the gesture barely making it past her lips. “Eren I need you to sit down. There's something I have to tell you.”

“Sure,” I said, grabbing a chair, enjoying the ability to sit in the kitchen. It must have taken Mikasa hours to make it look this clean. “Hey, uhm, what time did you get here?”

“A while ago. I wasn't expecting you to be out so late.”

Ah. Bad thing to bring up. “S-So, what did you want to talk about? You're not... you're not pregnant, are you?”

“Please, Eren. This is hard enough as it is.”

She sounded worn.

For the first time since seeing her tonight I really looked at her. I saw the redness around her downcast eyes, the drying tracks streaked through the powder on her cheeks, the tremble of her bottom lip.

This wasn't a happy reunion.

It was something completely different, and somehow I knew she wasn't about to scold me over the unkempt state of the house.

This was serious.

“Mikasa, you're kinda scaring me right now. What's up?” I prompted, unsure if I wanted her to tell me. Unsure that I wouldn't want to rewind the clock and go back to the Corporal's apartment, to lose myself in his arms instead of facing whatever was about to come.

She took a deep breath. Reaching out she held my hand on the table, lacing our fingers together, struggling to fill the silence with the words that clogged her throat.

My stomach lurched.

I felt sick.

A thousand possibilities whizzed through my mind.

None of them prepared me for what she said next.

“Eren. Listen to me. There's... been an accident.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')


	7. Siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had happy holidays!
> 
> Thank you for persevering to Chapter Seven! 
> 
> Have fun with this one, guys.

“An accident?” I parroted, furrowing my brows together as the meaning of the words sunk in, slowly. “What kind of accident? Who?”

There was a cup of tea, long since grown cold and barely a sip taken from it, on the table beside our entwined fingers. I stared at it with fierce intensity as Mikasa broke the news I didn't want to hear. My eyes bore into it with such intensity I was surprised the surface didn't begin to bubble.

I couldn't look at her.

Even as her gaze implored me to meet hers, to reassure her in some way I was listening, that I heard her broken and meek voice and understood the gravity of the words. I refused to see it.

“The car Dad was driving was caught in a collision. The paramedics they... they did all they could.” Mikasa sounded disconnected, as though she had already compartmentalised her grief in preparation for this moment. “There was nothing more they could do.”

“...No.” I said firmly. I unlaced our fingers from each other, rising from the table swiftly, propelled by emotion. “No!” I yelled, slamming my fist onto the surface. Mikasa didn't even flinch. Her mug of tea shook, as if capturing the feelings she wouldn't show.

“Eren, please sit down.” Mikasa urged.

“Like hell I will! You're not going to sit there and calmly tell me this bullshit! I'm not going to hear it.”

“Whether you hear it or not doesn't change the fact.” She replied sternly, harshly, knocking the wind out of my sails. I'd headed in the direction of the door, the kitchen suffocating me with the remnants of cleaner clinging to the air.

It stuck in my throat along with the emotion I refused to feel.

I was angry. It was my go-to, my haven, my sanctuary. Anything could be solved if I shouted loud enough at it.

Or so I thought.

I turned on my heel, locking eyes with her at last.

She was the epitome of tranquil waters but I could see the storm beneath the surface, deep in her eyes. Seeing that was almost enough to break me. Hell, maybe I was already broken, stuffing the cracks in me with denial. “Dad's fine. He's _fine_ , Mikasa. They would've called me if something happened.”

“They tried. The number on record wouldn't connect.”

“Well, why the hell wouldn't it connect?” My voice was rising. I stalked back to the table, leaning over it, over her.

“I have a phone.” I took it out my pocket, tossed it on the table. “It works. I get calls on it all the time. What kind of lame fucking excuse is that?”

“You changed your number, Eren.” Mikasa's voice was low, controlled and if I didn't know better, I would say calm. But I could hear the slightest tremor that hid beneath the surface. “About a year ago, _remember_?”

I was shaking my head, pushing off the table and choosing to lean on the counter, my back to her.

Turned my back to it all.

My father was fine.

He was travelling Europe and I was saving to go see him. This was some weird, twisted, fucked up dream. “This isn't happening,” I said vehemently. To myself, to Mikasa. To both of us and neither of us. “This just isn't happening.”

I heard the scrape of the wooden chair legs on the tiles. I heard the soft release of her breath.

“Eren, you need to be strong.”

“This isn't happening.” I repeated. I said it with more strength but it wasn't enough to convince me.

I was weakening.

“Before you rebuild, you must break what is left.” Her voice was closer. “Look at me, Eren.”

“...No.”

“Look.”

My resolve crumbled. I turned to face her. Then the rest of me crumbled.

My legs swept out from under me, buckling at the knee. Mikasa caught me, clutching at my shoulders as the two of us collapsed onto the kitchen floor.

The first waves of grief struck. It broke the dam in my throat and out it poured through my eyes and mouth. I wailed like a wounded animal, clutching Mikasa's shirt to anchor me on the tossing tides of sorrow. She held onto me fast, and in my arms, I could feel her own tremors.

Her scarf found its way around my neck, enveloping me in her scent, her warmth, her love.

I finally understood how she felt all those years ago, the voice from the phone, hanging lifelessly in the booth, echoing across the years to me now. There was a strange comfort in knowing that I wasn't alone.

The night was long since over. We stayed together on the floor, our asses as numb as we felt inside, eyes and hearts equally as heavy.

We didn't talk.

There was nothing to say that hadn't been said already. We locked ourselves in our silent memories, if only to escape from the present.

I went back to the time I first time I felt as if my world had ended.

 

* * *

 

 

 

I was ten years old.

I could remember running back to the house with muddied knees from an afternoon playing with Armin and Mikasa in the park.

It was an epic day for the Cops (me), or it had been until the robber (Mikasa) outsmarted me. My heroic dash for the hostage (Armin), ended in humiliation as she stuck her leg out, tripping me up at the last hurdle and sending me head over heel into the mud.

“Armin is mine.” Mikasa said coolly, looking down at me as my lip started to wobble.

I declared the game was over. Huffing in defeat I scurried home to dust off my wounded pride, but not before I vowed to save Armin next time.

My dad was waiting on the front porch, calling out my name. He paced back and forth, stopping only when I came hurtling into view.

“Dad!” I bellowed.

“Eren! Is Mikasa with you?” I couldn't describe the look on his face as he saw me.

“Yeah! She's coming!”

“Both of you need to come inside, right away! Say goodbye to Armin for the day.”

I stopped running at that. I heard Mikasa's footsteps behind me a moment later.

Dad returned to the house, leaving the door expectantly open for us.

His tone worried me in a way that I was too young to understand at the time. I barked at Mikasa that it was time for us to go home, and waved goodbye to Armin.

The house was eerily quiet as we went inside. Dad was in the living room, waiting for us. He patted the couch next to him.

“Eren, Mikasa. I need you to listen to me very carefully.” He began, and the knot in my stomach twisted. “As well you both know, your mom hasn't been all that well recently.”

“She's gonna get better though. You're giving her medicine, aren't you, Dad?” I said, tapping his leg in a way that at the time I thought to be helpful. I'm sure it wasn't, and I'm glad I can't picture the way his face must have looked in that moment.

He placed his hand over mine, his broader, longer palm taking over mine completely. He squeezed my fingers.

Mikasa, being older, clocked on quicker than I did.

“I'm... I'm afraid she's not going to get better, son.” He croaked.

“But you said she would!” I argued.

“It's not that easy. Please, Eren, try to understand.”

There was nothing for me _to understand_. He lied to me and that was that. All I knew was that, and to me it was a fact. I was going to lose my mom, all because my dad wasn't saving her.

Mikasa took it better than I did. At least on the outside she did. No one really knew how she truly felt beneath her carefully composed surface. Even at our tender ages – she already tasted the bitterness of loss before, it was no stranger to her.

I cried enough for all of us, unashamed and unhindered. I cried until my cheeks were red and my eyes sore and then I cried further still. My dad held me to his chest, ignoring my punches and wriggles until I gave up the fight and let him hold me.

He wasn't the same after mom died. The light in his eyes was gone. It was as though his soul was extinguished. It frightened me.

I said nothing about it.

My dad did what he could to raise us both. Juggling two young children and his job as a doctor was hard on him.

I was not an easy child to raise at the best of times, even less so after mom was gone. I got into fights regularly at school; I lashed out, exploding at the smallest trigger. I took my frustration out on the other kids whenever they pissed me off, which was frequently. If any one of those thugs so much as looked at me or Armin or Mikasa the wrong way, I went flying over.

I was fearless.

I was reckless.

I was known by the nurse by the end of that year.

I spent more time in detention, more time out of class, and was eventually expelled for periods of time. I was totally out of control.

My dad was at his wits end.

“You can't behave like this.” He told me, the hand that held my school report shaking.

“What does it matter?” I retorted. “The answer is none of it does. Mom is gone and good behaviour isn't gonna bring her back!”

It came as little surprise when he said he was leaving.

He was offered a position that would take him to and around Europe. Mikasa was old enough to look after us. She didn't have much choice. Looking back, it was a shitty thing for him to do. But I didn't blame him then, and I don't now.

The prospect of living without parental influences was a dream come true at the time. With my dad out the way I was free to be the little shit I was, and he had the guilt-free ticket to freedom.

So, what changed?

A letter.

My dad sent me a letter. He sent many, but as he described the amazing places he was seeing... I was inspired. His letters broadened my horizons, made me realize how much more to the world there was than scrapping with the school bullies. It was a complete turnaround. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to finish school and leave to go on the road with my dad.

I know that some part of me matured in his absence. I wanted to make up for being a piece of shit after mom's death. I knew that I would never have the chance to reconcile those years, no matter what I did, but I had to try.

All I needed was money.

 

* * *

 

I awoke with a start.

“Ah, shit.” I murmured, wiping the dried on spit from my chin. That's when I heard the sound of what roused me originally; the honking of a horn.

Armin. He was here to take me to school.

“What is it...?” Mikasa asked, sounding just as dazed and drowsy as I was. Her eyes were swollen and red, and I imagined I looked as bad.

“It's Armin,” I clarified for Mikasa, who rubbed at her eyes as I separated from her, “I'll be back in a second.”

The walk to the front door was lengthy, my bones creaking every single step. By the time I got there, Armin was out the car and in the midst of coming to the door. I smiled sadly. “Hey Armin.”

“Eren...! Gosh, you look terrible. Did you even sleep? ...Is everything alright?”

I shook my head, no. No, it most definitely wasn't alright.

Mikasa came out then, to break the news I didn't have the strength yet to say for myself.

“Armin.” She said, and I could hear the strain behind it.

“Mikasa! You're home!”

Armin's sunny disposition was out of place in our overcast world.

“...I wish I could say it was under better circumstances. Dad... was in an accident.”

Mikasa didn't have to explain fully. Armin was hugging me, his own tears soaking into my shirt. I was still wearing the same clothes, the ones I wore to the Corporal's apartment.

I didn't even think to change.

I put my arms around Armin and squeezed him to me. I clung to him, my lip trembling as I fought back a fresh wave of tears. I thought I was doing well. Then Mikasa put her arms around us both. That was all it took to shatter what little resolve I'd pieced together.

I spent many hours a day dreaming of seeing Mikasa back home, of the three of us reunited, how we were as children. Those years were too far away from me; I wanted to run back into them, to retreat into childhood and escape from the present.

“I'll inform the school.” Armin said after the longest time, pulling back to cup my cheeks in his warm hands. “Take as long as you need. Do you want me to come by later?”

I nodded. Having Armin would be a source of strength for us both, I decided. He was as much my family as Mikasa, and I needed them both equally if I was going to get through this.

We watched from the porch as Armin got into his car, wiping at his eyes and getting himself together before driving off. He was going to be late for school for the first time in his life.

“Let's go back inside.” Mikasa said, breaking the silence between us. She placed her hand on my back, urging me to move. I complied, too weak to put up a fight, even when later on she forced me to shower and change. Breakfast was already on the table when I resurfaced.

Pancakes. She must have restocked my fridge last night while I was out the house.

“Thanks,” I said, poking at the portion on my plate with a fork. I didn't feel hungry. Neither did she, I noted from the way she picked at her own. “Mikasa... what are we going to do?”

“I wish I could say for certain, Eren.” She replied, not taking her eyes off her plate. Beside her hand was a steaming mug of coffee. She made me an orange juice, and I took a sip of it now purely for something to do. “We're going to be okay, I promise you.”

I nodded, wiping my lips.

I nibbled a pancake.

It tasted of nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the following week all I did was call people.

Mikasa answered calls from people who knew our father, and I bitterly spoke of how people emerge from the woodwork at times like this.

I didn't even know their names. What the fuck did they want in calling now? To offer condolences to two teenagers they wouldn't recognize on the street if they passed them by?

The solicitors were notified. Then the funeral director. Mikasa helped me choose the casket and flower arrangements. My dad was a simple, down to earth type of guy. His service was to be reflective of that – nothing fancy, no extravagance.

We wanted to give a speech, and so together we composed one. She came up with the majority, and I was fine with that, what with me not being the greatest commander of words even at the best of times.

Without school my routine faded into nothingness. The days and nights merged into one hazy mass. The first time I was aware of what day of the week it was came at the weekend, on Saturday.

My phone buzzed.

Lying in bed, cocooned in my blankets, I grumbled sleepily as it buzzed again, the sound magnified by the cabinet I left it on. Grumpily I flung my hand out of the warm cover and blindly felt around. My fingers eventually found it, the bright glow in the darkness of my room making my eyes squint. Shit, it hurt to look at.

 

 

> _Your appointment with Mr. 57 is in an hour. Haven't heard from you all week. He hasn't murdered you, has he?_

 

Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.

The Corporal. Our weekly appointment. I completely forgot about it!

“Shit, shit, shit!” I cussed out loud, throwing the covers off and stumbling to my feet. I flipped the light on, spying the tray of forgotten food. Dinner. Mikasa put it there for me earlier.

When I stopped coming down to forage for food she had started bringing it to me instead. I rarely bothered with it, a decision I regretted as my world swirled uncontrollably from my sudden rising. I fell back down to the mattress, fighting the tide of nausea as it swept over me.

I closed my eyes until the unwelcome sensation subsided, then carefully got back on my feet, albeit slower this time.

What was I going to do?

Was it too soon to go back? Was I up to putting a brave face on and playing the part of a fantasy?

I didn't feel like I was myself all week. I was looking down at myself, watching from far away. Maybe it would do me some good to step out of my own shoes and leave all this shit behind for a night. On the other hand, it could cost me dearly if I broke down in tears in front of a customer. I couldn't imagine the Corporal being very sympathetic to my cause.

I stepped over the food tray and out into the hallway. As I passed the stairs, I could see lights on. Mikasa was still awake. What even was the time? Eight-thirty. I'd need to come up with a decent excuse for why I was leaving the house when I'd been in bed since Tuesday.

Was it Tuesday, or was it Wednesday? Monday?

I thought I heard her stir and quickly hurried into the bathroom, pretending not to hear her calling my name. She sounded sleepy.

For the first time in days I caught sight of myself in a mirror. I wish I never saw it at all.

My hair was greasy. What wasn't molded to my head stuck out awkwardly, no need for gel. My skin was pale, the healthy glow I used to have absent, and in its place a sickly pallor. Beneath my eyes were dark circles that sucked all the light from them. I looked fucking awful.

There was no way I could face the Corporal like this.

I put my head to the mirror in frustration, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

Pull it the fuck together, Yeager. Yeah, I look like shit. Nothing a decent shower can't fix, right?

Right.

I don't really know what I was trying to achieve. All I knew was that the thought of seeing the Corporal was what fuelled my movements. His image in my mind was breathing life back into me, filling my lungs and heart with purpose. I didn't care about the money. I just wanted to see him, for better or worse, whatever the outcome.

The shower sputtered to life and soon the bathroom filled with steam. I threw my pajamas off, taking care not to breathe too deeply as my unwashed body was exposed to the air.

I was sure to smell by now – honestly, I didn't know the last time I showered, and as I got under the water I sighed, soothed by the cleansing droplets beating down on me. My body felt sore and sluggish and I could practically hear my joints creaking as I reached for the soap.

I scrubbed at my body, my skin turning pink as I worked the faintly scented soap into it, anything to mask the stench of my body odor.

I washed myself a total of three times over and declared myself clean.

Back in my room I scavenged for something suitable to wear. Not that it mattered when I got changed at his place, but I liked to arrive looking nice at least. Grey jeans, a long-sleeved dark grey top and a black short-sleeve over that are what I settled for.

The final hurdle was facing Mikasa.

“Eren, you're awake.”

She caught me as I slipped into my shoes. “Hey, Mikasa.”

“You're going out?” She leaned on the door frame, wrapped in a green blanket I didn't recognise. She was rubbing at her eyes and yawning. “It's... really late. Where are you going?”

“I won’t be back for a while, I don't think, so don't wait up for me.” I dodged answering her directly, feeling guilty when her brows knotted together and her dark eyes fixed on me.

“Eren. You haven’t been out of bed all week, not even to see Armin. Is that where you're going now, to Armin's?”

I thought about lying to her.

I knew better than to do that, knowing full well she would pick up the phone and call him. I shook my head, no. “No, not Armin's. Look, Mikasa, I need to get out the house for a while. I need to-”

A car honked outside. My cab was here.

Perfect fucking timing.

“Eren! Eren wait!”

“Don't stay up!” I called over my shoulder, dashing out the door and jogging down the path to the waiting car. I didn't dare look back at her. I knew she would be standing on the porch, bewildered and concerned, her hair messy from her nap on the couch. I knew it all without seeing.

In the back of the cab I checked my phone and fired a quick text to Hange. I was going to be late. I hated being late. There was nothing I could do about it. Hange responded quickly, that they would notify No. 57 and not to let it happen too often.

He didn't appreciate tardiness.

Maybe I was better off staying at home, and part of me was still wrestling for the cause. It was losing, the further and further from home and the closer to the apartment I got. I recognized the street, the row of shops down the road and high rise buildings packed densely together, all lit up in the dark of the night.

I felt as though I was seeing it for the first time, having been cooped up in my room for days on end.

Grief was an odd thing.

No two of us experienced it the same. Mikasa was kind enough to let me be, to let me mindlessly walk from the bathroom and back to my room in a lifeless daze, to sink into bed and fall asleep, to dream of better days.

I'd heard Armin's voice drifting up the stairs from time to time, too, never once climbing out of bed to greet him. I didn't want to face the misery of the same questions, over and over again. _Are you alright? How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do?_

It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.

There was no answer to those questions, so I avoided hearing them altogether.

As I got out of the cab, I was a world away from my problems. No one knew me here, on this street, in this part of town.

No one cared.

No one looked twice as I pressed the buzzer and pushed open the door.

The lobby was empty and so was the elevator. The boy in the reflection, with his piercing eyes, he saw through it easily enough. The other me, he knew better.

The doors opened with an overly cheerful tune, and I left him there, trapped in the glass where he could not follow.

“You're late.” The Corporal greeted me warmly.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for bringing some sads. I've not really written anything angsty before, so I'd really appreciate some insight on how you all felt (if you have the time to share, that is! No pressure!). 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and continuing to support my work. I'll see you in the next chapter!


	8. Building Bridges Over Troubled Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! How did the festivities go for you all?
> 
> I want to thank everyone for their comments and continued support. It has meant so much to me as a first time multi-writer, and as a first timer to this fandom, too. You're all wonderful.

“Hello, Sir.” I said as brightly as I could, ensuring the door was closed before addressing him. “I'm sorry for being late. I was-”

“I don't care for excuses.” He cut me off, folding his arms across his chest and cocking a hip. “If you can't keep to the time, don't bother coming.”

“...I...” I shouldn't have come at all. I hung my head, balling my hands at my sides. I was fighting to keep it inside. I needed to compose myself.

I was here to get away. I couldn't go back now, back to Mikasa and all her questions that waited for me. I couldn't go back to the reality I peeled myself from, back to the reality that I was now alone in this world with nothing to aim for.

I was going to be strong. No. I _am_ strong. “It won’t happen again, Sir.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, his eyes lingering on me for precious seconds.

My leather jacket was waiting for me, with the rest of the items of uniform, on the bed. I traced my fingers over the embroidered swords, wondering what it was all for, filling my head with notions that had nothing to do with home, with funeral arrangements and solicitors and money.

I'd lay my frivolous thoughts over them, dress them up in a different outfit, just like my flesh. I'd pretend they were something different for a couple hours.

It was a little comfort.

I changed into the clothes and walked back out into the living room, eyes searching for the Corporal. On the glass table was a book, a new one, face down so I couldn't see the cover. I was about to take a peek when I heard his footsteps coming towards me, from a part of the place I hadn't yet been to.

“If you do not like something,” He began, “that happens here, you must tell me. Immediately.”

“I'm... I'm sorry, Sir?” His words caught me off-guard.

“If you don't want to come here, then don't.” He met my gaze then. He used his eyes to punctuate his sentences, as if every word he spoke existed visibly between us. They told a story of their own, however. One I was still learning to read the language of, learning to understand.

“I can find someone else.” He finally said.

I moved before I could stop myself, a single word tearing from my lips as fervently as if it were to be my last. “No!”

I don't think I could take it. The thought of not seeing him again was a crushing blow, knocking the wind straight out of my lungs as surely as if he'd struck me himself.

“No! Please, Corporal, don't replace me. I couldn't... if you... please...” Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. My wall was breaking down. I frantically patched it back up, sealing the tide of bullshit behind it.

I could still feel it building in my throat. I was choking on it.

I forced my voice to come out around it, pushed the words off my tongue with all my conviction.

“I promise I won’t let you down.”

His brow raised, lifting in a perfect arch high over his eye, a flickering change, so subtle I almost missed it completely, washing over his features. “You are sure?”

I nodded vehemently, desperate to convey my sincerity, fighting back the tears. If I lost him too, I would have nowhere to run to. I needed to be here. With him. Whatever it meant, whatever it took. Whatever he had me do, I didn't care.

I wasn't Eren Yeager right now. I was someone else. A blank canvas. Faceless.

“...The bathroom.”

“Sir?”

“It needs your attention. See to it.”

“...Yes, Sir.” I was grateful. Grateful he wasn't throwing me back out on my ass.

Silence was golden as he took to his chair, picking up the book from the table and settling back to read it, leaving me to collect my things from under the kitchen sink and find my way to the bathroom. It wasn't difficult to locate, the door open and the light on. He must have been in here a moment ago.

It was grand. Bigger than my bedroom, even.

The bathtub dominated the space, taking up the entirety of the far wall. It looked deep and big enough for two, with a large window offering a clear view of the city-scape beyond. It was spectacular to view from this high up, my eyes wide in appreciation as I took it all in.

The world was truly an amazing place to be.

There was a toilet and, opposite to that, a cabinet with the wash basin and a mirror above.

The floor was wooden planks, rustic in style, and I rather liked its uniqueness.

I put the bucket down by the wash basin and searched for any obvious signs of dirt. Nothing. Not a crumb. Naturally.

I took my cloth and started wiping down the taps. It was a good a place to start as any.

The bathroom was eerily quiet. I became all too aware of the sound of my own breathing, of the cloth dragging across the metal. It was hardly distracting, to clean something that already sparkled. In fact, being alone in here gave me all the time I needed to reflect on things.

My feelings soon caught back up to me as I knelt down, bent over the tub and my arm extended, cloth in hand, wiping back and forth mindlessly.

I was staring out the window when it happened, eyes to the endless night sky, thoughts trailing to my father. I wondered if he could see me from up there, if he could see the pathetic excuse for a son he had, if he knew what I was doing right now.

_I bet you're with mom now. So proud of your son, aren't you? Course you are. Laughable, isn't it? Can't get a normal job like a normal person._

Yeah, well. I sure as hell wasn't laughing.

It never bothered me before. What I did... was just a job. I didn't think about it much at all. What was the point?

I liked sex. I liked men. I liked money.

I had the common sense to combine all three, and with it make my dreams come true.

The drop on my hand was warm, a gentle _plip._

I had no dream to aim for. So why... was I even here?

Then another followed, and then another.

_Plip, plip, plip._

Fuck _._ I really was messed up, to cry on the bathroom floor of a stranger's home. I was wrong in believing I was able to leave it all behind, wrong to think it was easy to shake it off for a couple of hours and play my role here.

It was the worst idea I'd ever had. If the Corporal fucked me, at least then I'd have a few minutes to think of nothing but a decent fuck, raw physicality blinding my emotional state. Here, in this place, as much as I wanted to see him, it was a mistake. One I was paying for now with these ridiculous tears.

I muttered to myself as I dried my eyes on the back of my hand, getting nowhere. It was like trying to soak up a river with a tissue.

I eyed my sleeve.

“Don't even think about it.”

“S-Sir!?” I leapt out of my skin at the sound of his voice, my eyes drying instantly and my heart forgetting how to beat. “I-I'm sorry I-”

“Shut your eyes.” He snapped, interrupting my deluge of apologies. “Do it.”

“...Ah...?” I sniffed the mucus up my nose, my whole face feeling like it was liquid. “D-Don't look at me,” I managed to say, “Please, just give me a moment. I'll sort myself out.”

The room was so quiet, every noise amplified. I heard him release a sigh, and silenced my blabbering.

“Stay still.” He said, voice softer, and I listened as he moved across the bathroom. He didn't have to ask. I wasn't going anywhere like this. “You're a stupid, shitty brat. You know that?”

I nodded, not wanting to hear my voice. Believe me, Sir. I knew that.

His gloved hands appeared first, resting on my shoulders. I could feel them, his individual fingers gripping me lightly as he lowered himself. He nestled between my legs, bringing our bodies together as he did last time we met. His hands disappeared from my shoulders and instead, snaked beneath my own, locking us together. Without a word, he embraced me for a second time, his head coming to rest on my shoulder, still tingling from where his hands had been a few seconds ago.

“...Did it work?” He said after a while.

“Sir?”

He said nothing more.

I cracked open my eyes, looked down at his arms around me, felt my heart beat quicken. The tears on my face dried off. My thoughts dissipated. All I felt, in that moment, was his warmth. I felt a strange tranquillity, my body floating weightlessly in his embrace.

“Corporal.” I murmured, moving my hand from the cloth and placing it over his arm. I felt him tense, but he didn't loosen his grip on me. There was much I didn't understand about him, much for me to learn and come to know. I squeezed his arm, felt the muscle beneath his shirt, my pulse racing as my body reacted to our closeness.

He knew exactly what I needed. He was comforting me. Well, wasn't he full of surprises.

“Thank you.” I said at last. He held onto me for the longest time, the world passing us by without a care, the tempest in my heart soothed by the cage of his arms.

Eventually he pulled away from me. I felt his absence instantly, cold as though I'd stepped from the warmth of the sun and into shadow.

As he walked away he called over his shoulder to me. “Go home.”

It didn't feel like defeat as I got up off the floor.

I felt somehow as if the pieces of me were fitting back together, each one caressed by his delicate fingers and slotted back into its rightful place. He'd held me together as the last parts of me began to shatter.

I still held unresolved feelings about my father, about myself. But I felt like I had a little more strength to deal with it now. Coming here hadn't been such a disaster after all.

Once in the elevator, I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass, and found the boy staring back to be a happier one, if only for a fleeting second.

I was leaving with something I didn't have when I arrived. Somewhere inside me a flame had been kindled. It would keep me warm, even if he wasn't there, and it would light a way through my darkest days to come.

 

* * *

 

I took a break from work after that, unable to bring myself to spread my legs and make like the whore I was. I texted Hange and cancelled all appointments until further notice.

I didn't want to feel anyone's hands on me, not after the pure and simple gesture of his arms around me, not after comfort I had found there. I wanted to hold onto that for as long as I could.

By not seeing anyone... I wouldn't be seeing the Corporal either, but I felt it for the best. I felt too much turmoil over my my future, even despite the joy I departed from him with.

Mikasa gradually stopped trying to coax me out of bed. Armin, too, soon gave up the fight. I still heard his voice from downstairs, chatting in a hush as he dropped off more schoolwork. It was mounting up, but I didn't care.

I was ready to throw it all away, for what future did I have now?

The dream of seeing my dad and exploring the world together was over. I whored myself for nothing, and now was left with nothing. Part of me felt things were better this way; no one would ever have to know the things I'd done to achieve my goal, no one would ever know the lengths I went to to spend time with my dad.

Instead I was left with the guilt, guilt so heavy it tied me to my bed, crushing my chest as I wept into my pillow, cursing everything with an intense ferocity, my voice hoarse. I'd been a shit after mom died, I knew that.

As much as I downplayed it, I knew the truth of it. I knew I drove dad away with my fighting. We were all grieving in our own ways, mine the most selfish of all. I didn't know how to handle it then just as I don't know how to handle it now.

I kept all the letters he sent me, bundled up alongside my savings tin under the bed. I used to read them sometimes while waiting for another one to arrive in the post, refreshing on his adventures, keeping the goal firmly in sight. Whenever someone was too rough, or asked too much, I would remind myself why I did it. It wouldn't be forever, if I didn't want it to be.

Hell, I could quit any time. It was all up to me.

I was sure to have enough for the flight. All I had left to do was finish school. Everything else was a bonus.

What was the point now without that goal?

There wasn't one.

By the end of the third week I was out of bed. I dressed for school and Armin came by as usual to pick me up. He asked if I was sure I was ready – I didn't have an answer to that. I don't even know why I was trying.

I was tired, my body was sore, and within the first hour of school I wanted nothing more than to trudge back to my bed. At lunchtime, I sat with Armin and Jean, picking at the food in front of me, barely hearing the conversations that happened so easily without my input.

I pretended not to notice the worried glances Armin shot my way, much less the hesitant glances from Jean.

History. English. Math. Science. Physical Education. More homework. Lessons. Lunch. Sleep. Repeat. Rinse. What was the order? I don't remember. The week went from Wednesday to Monday to Friday. I was out of sync and I had not the strength to worry.

I don't know how much I learned in those weeks. Probably nothing.

Only time would tell when I got my grades back.

By the fourth week I asked Armin about Jean. I asked him about Sasha, Connie, even Annie. I asked him to talk to me about anything and everything, so long as it wasn't about me. The weather, the news, whatever.

The day of the funeral came.

Mikasa was smoothing out the long black dress with the flat of her palm as I came down the stairs, wearing the suit we'd chosen together a few days earlier. She looked stunning with a petite hat perched toward the front of her head, a small net veil shielding the sorrow in her eyes.

Eyes that now locked with mine in silent understanding. Today we both said goodbye to our childhoods. From here on out we were alone, with no one else to fall back on.

“Are you ready?” She asked me.

I nodded. Would I ever be truly ready?

Her hand, encased in a long black glove, squeezed the crook of my arm. “The car is outside.” She said in a low voice.

Outside the weather was almost too perfect. Bright blue skies with only the occasional lazy, fluffy cloud passing by. The weather was warm, the breeze gentle. It didn't seem right, the juxtaposition of my stormy feelings clashing with the brilliance around me. It was not the day for a funeral.

Mikasa and I stood on the porch, turning to take one final look at the house we grew up in, silently bidding farewell to ourselves as children. Today was the last of our carefree ways.

The service was simple, as planned. A small gathering of faces came together in the church, and Mikasa and I gave our speech, voices given strength amongst the high walls of the building. We spoke of what a great father he was, of his accomplishments in the medical field, his dedication to his wife, our late mother. I held Mikasa's hand throughout, squeezing tightly.

Armin hugged us both afterwards, fighting back his tears and failing miserably. He still somehow managed to look adorable in that state. I was certainly not to lucky.

Dad was laid to rest beside mom.

The two plaques lay side by side, decorated with fresh flowers – tulips, my mother's favorite – on the grassy mound. It was a family plot and one day, I too would have my place here. Mikasa, also.

One by one the guests dissipated, their respects paid and duty done, heads bowed and voices quiet as they retreated back to their daily lives. I didn't recognize a single face beyond Armin and Mikasa. Some were colleagues, I later found out, others distant relatives so far removed they were strangers to us.

I knelt down in the grass in front of my parents.

“Hey, Mom.” I said, brushing over the engraving with my fingers, tracing the letters _loving mother_ with a trembling hand. “I always promise to come see you more. I'm sorry I never do.” My words hesitated on my lips, piling up in the back of my throat, choking off all sound but a strangled sob. “I miss you. But you won’t be lonely any more, Dad's here with you now. It's been a long time since I saw you, too, Dad. Welcome... home.”

This was harder than I thought. I wiped at my eyes, soaking the back of my sleeve, pulling up the strength to continue.

“I've been working hard at my studies; my grades are better, mostly Cs with a couple of Bs. Well, I was. Recently hasn't been as good. Armin's helping me out so it can't be all bad. Hey, Dad. You know I was... I was saving up to come see you? I don't think I ever told you. I was gonna come see the world with you, get out of this city and really explore. I might still do it one day, if I can. We'll have to see. Seems kinda pointless without you.” I choked back a sob, spilling the words I longed to say to him while he could still hear me. “My job isn't anything to shout out about. I'm not proud.”

I thought about the Corporal. I thought of how he held me, stilling the sadness in my heart and replacing it with something else, if only for a short while.

“I was lonely... really lonely without you or Mikasa home. I wanted to see you! Now I'll never...”

My voice trailed off, followed by another round of tears that I wiped hastily away with my sleeve. I hated crying. I'd been doing it so much lately.

Down the mound, Mikasa waited patiently down by the gates, sitting in the car with the door open. She left me completely alone as I needed to be, waiting for me to say what could only be said when no one else was around to listen. To judge. To look upon me in my grief with sympathy, with pity.

She was a good sister.

I told mom and dad as much, changing the course of my thoughts. “I still have her, at least. You know, she cleaned the house for me when she came back. She's been keeping on top of it ever since, even my laundry is being done regularly.” I smiled sadly down at my hands, clasped on my lap, fingers lacing together and slipping apart idly. “I was never good at housework. It'll be a mess when she goes back. I will try to keep it clean... yeah, I know. That won’t last long, will it?”

The sky was darkening overhead by the time I ran out of things to say. My voice was raw, either from crying or my incessant babbling. I don't think I ever said so much in all my years combined as I did in those few hours.

I told my parents everything and anything, unburdened in their unrelenting silence, relieved to put a voice to all my fears, childish or not. I don't know if they heard me.

I liked to think they did.

In the end, Mikasa's hand on my shoulder pulled me away.

“It's time to go home.” She said, her voice quietly imploring. She pressed her fingers gently into my shoulder, helped me brush myself down as I got to my feet, a little sore after hours of sitting.

“Thanks.” I said simply as we walked together to the gate. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

“I'll get us take out for dinner. What would you like?”

“Chicken nuggets sounds good right about now.” I was hungry. In the wake of my emotional unloading I'd made room at last for food. My stomach was grumbling noisily, and I laughed at the absurdity of it all as I got into the car with her. I really was feeling better.

“Can Armin come, too?”

“Of course.”

I texted Armin, and Mikasa drove by and picked him up on the way.

“We're going for nuggets.” I said as he got in the back seat.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He replied, “I'm starving.”

I ordered my nuggets and a large fries. Armin went for a double beef burger, and Mikasa ordered nothing more than a muffin and a strawberry milkshake.

“How long you staying for, Mikasa?” Armin asked, chomping at his burger. Boy had an impressive mouth on him, I thought, watching the size of the bite he took.

“I'm not sure. The college gave me leave from my studies, but I'll have to go back soon or I'll fall too far behind.”

“I can manage without you,” I said, scoffing a nugget. I loved chicken nuggets; the tender chicken breast wrapped inside a crispy batter, it was a divine combination. “I've been alright so far.”

“Armin, have you seen the state of the house when I'm not there?” Mikasa said, completely ignoring me.

“N-No, I haven't...not recently...”

“It was not the house of someone who was coping.” She said, pointedly looking at me.

I sunk into my seat. “Hey, come on guys, this isn't fair...!”

“You need some lessons in house cleaning.”

I spluttered at that, my mind instantly flicking to thoughts of the Corporal. I was doing more cleaning now than I ever had in all my life – it just happened to not be my house. Oh. That sentence struck home harder than I thought. My house. I guess it was that now.

I watched in horror as Mikasa reached over the table to my stack of fries, collecting three and swiftly depositing them in her mouth.

“Hey! You didn't want any!” I said, sitting up and guarding my food.

Armin laughed, barely managing to cover his mouth as he spluttered and choked on his burger.

“Come on now, guys! “I said indignantly. “This was meant to be a nice meal out. Don't take more! Mikasa!” I went to snatch them clean out her hand but failed. She moved too quickly for me, and my supply of fries was quickly dwindling.

“Your fries taste much better than any I could order.” Mikasa declared, licking the salt from around her mouth. I glowered at her, unimpressed.

“That makes zero sense.” I protested.

“It's scientifically proven,” Armin said, “They performed studies on it. The food of others genuinely does taste better.”

“Okay, Armin, I am calling bullshit on that. There's no way that's true, so stop trying to use your Smart Tone to convince me it is.”

“It is! I promise you!” He was laughing as he said it. I didn't believe him. I'd still google it later to make sure, but I didn't believe him.

In a sombre moment, I looked at them both as they sat opposite me in the booth, Armin laughing and Mikasa's eyes twinkling with mirth also. I was committing the scene to memory, sketching down the details like an artist with a source of inspiration before him.

I wanted to memorize every tiny detail, to never forget the time we were sharing. I missed the chance with my parents, I would be damned if I would let the last two people on Earth I called family slip through my fingers.

But family is a fragile thing.

 


	9. Old Habits Die Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Thank you for coming back yet again. Are you still enjoying...?
> 
> My editor wants you all to know how badly she roasts me on every chapter. It's really quite cruel the notes she leaves me...
> 
> Anyways. I look forward to receiving your comments?

The weeks following my father's funeral were oddly nostalgic.

It was as though nothing changed from before; Mikasa was home (which subsequently meant the place was tidy), I went to school, my father wasn't here, and no nocturnal weekend hangouts with older men.

I was almost able to believe my dad was alive and still in Europe, and that his letter would arrive in the post any day now with an update, maybe another medical breakthrough printed in the paper to cut out and keep.

Anything was possible if you believed in it hard enough, and I believed with all my might for it to be real.

It made things easier to deal with, for me at least.

Mikasa was quieter than usual, and I noticed her watching me out of the corner of my eye more than once. I made an effort to smile more after that, even if it was only surface level. I didn't want her worrying more than she was.

At school, things were difficult. I wasn't really interested in studying in the first place, and now I had even less interest in being there. It didn't go unnoticed – not least by my teachers.

When Shadis returned my test paper, I barely glanced at the large, red letter on the top.

I would add it to the pile at home, the ' _I Have No Fucks_ ' pile. It was growing considerably these past few weeks.

“Eren,” Armin started, hesitating before finally plucking up the courage to talk, “How... are things?”

I looked up from my packed lunch, lovingly prepared by Mikasa and full of nutritional goodness. Not exactly what I was in the mood for, but I couldn't complain. “Things are fine.” I said, watching as Jean tried to make himself look small. An impressive feat considering his height, even more impressive was how he managed it.

Armin, on the other hand, was standing tall in his seat. He was apparently gaining confidence in broaching whatever it was he was trying to say. “How's work?”

I shrugged. “I haven't been.”

“Eren...”

“I don't want to go.” I said quietly. “I've... quit.” As I said those words, the Corporal flashed through my mind. If I quit, if I truly quit, I wouldn't be seeing him anymore. Was I really alright with that? It's not something I'd considered over the last few weeks.

My mind was preoccupied, dealing with my feelings of remorse over my father. Romance wasn't on the agenda, but now my life was returning to some kind of normality, there it was.

What a complicated feeling.

“Just... don't throw everything away, Eren.” Armin said, reaching across the table to place his hand over mine. His skin felt warm. “You promised me that much.”

“That's...” I felt a stab of guilt. He was right about that. I had made such a promise to him, but things were different now. All my plans were wiped clean off the table, leaving nothing but the shattered remnants behind. Nothing I could pick up and hope to piece back together.

“It's up to him, Armin.” Jean said. He wasn't looking at either of us as he spoke. His attention instead was focused on the rest of the students as they ate their lunches. He probably wanted to be anywhere else right now, much like myself. “He's big enough to make his own mistakes.”

“Thanks, Jean.” I said. “Armin, I'm sorry. I'm just... not seeing the point to it right now.”

“I get that. I do.” He squeezed my hand. “I'm just trying to give you some more advice. Don't forget your promise to me, okay?”

“I'll try and do better,” I appeased, though I wasn't all that sure I would stick to it. I squeezed his hand back, to reassure him that his words were listened to. I knew he was looking out for me. I knew that, and I loved him dearly for caring so much about me.

He was a great support, and I was very lucky to have him. Even Jean was being nicer, but that was a little unnerving.

Armin's lunch time pep talk stayed with me. My afternoon classes saw a mild change in my attitude as I made the effort to listen, to take notes, and to actually learn something. If not for my own benefit, I couldn't stomach the thought of letting my lifelong friend down like that.

There was one problem with that.

Alongside a budding motivation to study again were my underlying feelings about the Corporal, dragged up in the same conversation. I now had time to think about it, my grief subsiding enough to allow him back into my mind. Truth was, he never really left it.

But my feelings about how I met him, the job I did, were heavily mixed in, and so I pushed it away. Even now I was weighed down with the mire of other emotions that tagged along with what used to be a pleasant fluttering in my chest. It was crushing, confusing and chaotic.

If I didn't go back, I wouldn't see him.

If I went back, I would be sleeping around once more. Was it a worthwhile exchange, for the opportunity to see him?

Little did I know the question would soon be answered for me.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“We need to talk.” Mikasa cornered me as I came home from school one afternoon, waiting

like an angry parent in the hallway with her arms folded across her chest. One look at her posture and I knew trouble was on the horizon. Was it too late to grab my bag and vanish to Armin's place?

Completely.

“What's up?” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. I followed her to the kitchen, to the dreaded kitchen table, and sat myself down. She busied herself with making tea, dragging out the inevitable big talk we were about to have.

Her tea made and no more distractions to run to, Mikasa sat down at the table, cradling the steaming mug in her hands. “As you know, I can't stay here forever. I'm already behind in my studies, and I know I can make the time up, but I will have to go home eventually.”

I winced when she said home. Wasn't this home? Did she not feel that way? “Alright. When are you thinking of going back?”

“Soon. A couple more weeks. That's part of what I needed to say to you. The other part... is that I am now your legal guardian, in the eyes of the law.” She sipped her tea, pausing to calculate her next words. I sat rigid opposite her, my hands balled into nervous fists below the table, anxiously trying to foresee where this conversation was headed.

I knew I wasn't going to like the destination.

“I know you ended up living on your own for a time, but maybe you should consider moving back with me?”

“ _What_?” I snapped, incredulous that she would suggest such a thing. “Leave?”

“Yes.” She replied, not backing down from my intense gaze. She was used to my tantrums, no matter how old I was, she knew to expect it. “It's really the only option.”

“I'm not leaving here, Mikasa. There's no way.”

“You may not have a choice, Eren.”

“No.” I said vehemently. I outright rejected the notion. I wouldn't consider it, not for a second. This conversation was over already, as far as I was concerned.

“The mortgage on this place is far from cheap. The money from dad will run out. After that, neither of us can afford to keep up the payments.”

“How much is it?” I ventured.

“It's around $700 a month, without utility bills on top.” She said flatly. “Eren, please don't misunderstand. I don't want to uproot you from here, but I don't see how else we can manage.”

Mikasa was talking, I could see her lips moving and hear the softness of her voice. None of it registered beyond that; the details were lost to me, my focus elsewhere.

I ran through the numbers in my head. On paper things weren't good.

On paper, things were never good.

“I could get another job.” I offered. I already knew that even dropping out of school and working full-time wouldn't be enough. Mikasa said exactly that and I felt my heart sink a little further in my chest. Much lower, and it would be on the floor.

There was only one thing I knew of that would solve this problem and I hated that. My conversation with Armin was only a few days ago, and since then all I could think about was the Corporal.

Now fate was dealing me another curveball, backing me into a corner where I would have no choice but to return to work.

Was doing it to keep me here enough to give me the sense of purpose I felt lacking in? Now was the ideal time to leave, to start anew – so why I was adamant to stay?

“There's no other way.” Mikasa said, and I could hear the defeat in her voice. She didn't want to tear me away any more than I wanted to be torn away. I understood she was acting as the older sister, trying to find a solution to an awful situation, just the same as I was searching for it.

Having suffered too much loss in her life, more than I ever had, losing me was not an option for her.

She would never act to spite me.

I would have to find a way to prove to her I would be alright. I would have to show her that leaving me behind was a viable option. If returning to Hange's work gave me my home, my independence, and the Corporal... it was a small price to pay.

“Do you trust me?” I asked her. Our eyes met across the table for the first time since we'd sat down. I searched her face deeply, seeing past the tiredness in her eyes to the depth of emotion underneath, to the truth. “Mikasa, do you trust me? _Can_ you trust me?”

My heart thundered in my chest, setting rhythm to the seconds that passed by between us.

“You're my brother. Of course I trust you.” She replied earnestly.

It was the response I expected from her, at least. But now I was going to test the degree to which she would place her faith in me. “I need to set up a bank account, I don't have one yet. Never needed it. Anyway, if you help me set it up, I can have the money for the bills sent to you every month.”

Her head shook from side to side, her mouth turning down as though tugged by weights.

“Eren, please. I need you to be sensible about this.”

“I am being sensible!” I shouted. I didn't mean to speak so loudly.

Mikasa didn't flinch. She watched me steadily, a gentle river meeting stormy seas.

“I can get the money.” I said quieter, pushing as much conviction into those words as possible.

“...There is no way you will be able to get it.” She refuted my claim easily enough. I wasn't deterred by her denial. I was spurned on.

“Forget about that. It's fine. I just need you to trust in me.” I was asking for a leap of faith from her. I was asking for no questions, to give no explanations, no answers. Blind faith.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but I know I can do it. Give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“Eren. Think _practically_ about this. If we miss a mortgage payment, a single one, I will be responsible for finding the money.”

“I know that. I won’t let it come to that. How long until dad's money runs out?”

“We probably have a maximum of two months left to go.”

“If I get the money together before then, will you believe me?” I took her hand from her mug, felt the heat of her palm as I wrapped my fingers around hers, imploring with every ounce of my being for her to put her faith in me.

“It's not possible. I suggest you take the next few weeks to pack your things, and I'll put the house up for sale-”

“No. I'm _not_ leaving here, Mikasa. I won’t.” I held tightly to her hand, not ready to give up the fight. I wanted to scream, to drown out her voice of reason. It wouldn't get me anywhere. Not with her. Now was the time for me to show her I wasn't the shitty brat she left behind – that dad left behind.

“This house is all I've got left of them.” I whispered. “All my memories are here. I've never lived anywhere else and I won’t live anywhere else. I grew up here. I'm not giving that up.”

“Memories are nice. That's all they are though, Eren.”

“Give me a chance.”

“Stop this. That's enough.”

“No. It isn't.” I let go of her hand, rising from the table. “I'll prove it to you. One way or another.”

“Eren-!”

I vanished from the kitchen, not giving her a chance to talk more. We were done talking. Instead, I'd _show_ her.

I hurried to my room, leaving Mikasa bewildered in the kitchen.

Falling to my knees and crawling under the bed, I unearthed my tin and popped open the lid. I never really bothered to count the bills inside. Sitting on top were the envelopes from the Corporal, all unopened. Grabbing the tin firmly in my quaking arms I carried it downstairs, my entire future balanced on winning this one battle.

Win or lose, I was gambling everything I had on this one moment.

“Here. There should be enough for the first month. I can get a second month's rent if you give me a little time.”

Mikasa's eyes were wide in disbelief as she looked at the contents of the tin. Her fingers shifted through the notes, beneath the envelopes, quickly surmising how much was there. She probably had a better idea in those few seconds than I ever did. “E-Eren, how did you...?”

“I've been saving. I'm a hard worker.” I said proudly, smiling impishly. “I told you, I can do this. If you give me a chance.”

“There's no way you... Just what have you been up to?” Her face was full of disbelief as was her voice. She looked at me in wonder, and in the depths of her eyes I could see the mounting questions, the underlying concern.

“Will you put your faith in me now?” I said, side-stepping her question. There was no way in hell she would ever let me stay if I told her I what I was really up to.

She was reluctant. Her expression turned dubious. “I don't know how you came by all this, Eren. I'm not sure I want to know. You're not doing anything stupid, are you?”

“I am not doing anything stupid.”

Finally, she nodded her head, agreeing to give me the opportunity I needed to show her I could pull this off.

“I won’t let you down.” I swore, taking her hand in mine again and squeezing. “I swear to you.”

I left Mikasa with the tin. I could hear her counting through it as I went back to my room to think things over. As I left the room, she was counting through it, murmuring in astonishment as the dollar bills grew in number. I honestly couldn't say how much was there. I could only hope it was enough for now.

It was absurd, how ferociously I fought to be allowed to keep doing the job I decided not to do any more. I should have, perhaps, accepted defeat and moved with Mikasa, yet as I thought it I knew it not to be an option.

My memories were in these walls. Memories of my mom and my dad, of Mikasa, too. I was going to fight to keep them, but it was not without a heavy burden.

I dug out the pile of letters from my dad and placed them carefully on the bed. I rooted through until I found the first one he sent, and one by one, I read through them in order. His handwriting was an almost indecipherable mess, as any doctor's was known to be.

I taught myself to understand his scrawl, but the more I read, the more blurred his words became.

The hand that held the letter started to shake, and soon I was unable to hold back the tide of tears.

I missed him terribly.

The first time I read his letters, I was filled with the hope of one day experiencing these things alongside him. That hope was gone from me. The false belief that he was still roaming Europe was lost on me today; the stark realization that he was dead and buried lay over me, like a bucket of cold water pouring down on me, it soaked in.

I was an absolute fucking mess. My life was a mess. It was all fucked up. And the only one to blame was myself.

The guilt was hardest to cope with, then the regret that followed closely behind it. They mingled together like paint, coloring and staining my emotions in their dark shades.

I couldn't stop thinking about my plan to join my dad. I knew, even as I accepted the role, that it wasn't logical. Not for normal students, anyway.

The ad was on a website I frequented. It was nothing fancy.

A strip on the side, next to the video I had just finished jacking off to, caught my attention. Once I'd finished cleaning myself off, I clicked it, not realizing what my post-orgasm hazy curiosity would ultimately result in. I would later discover it was Hange's modest website.

I didn't know what to expect from male escorting (I was rather naïve), but I didn't care all that much when the promise of potential earnings had me hooked. I dialed the number without a second thought, and with that my initial meeting with Hange was set, in the same coffee shop as always.

I lied to Hange a lot in that meeting.

I lied about too many things, and whether or not they knew the truth didn't stop them from offering me the position. I got the impression that Hange rather liked the way I looked, or more accurately, knew the customers would like the way I looked.

As a virgin, the idea of being paid for sex was paradise. Up until that point, my experiences were exclusively with my hand. I'd fingered myself a few times, so I didn't think it would be all that different to be fucked by another man. I was very, _very_ wrong.

The payoff was instant. Cash was in my grubby hands and as I limped out of the cab and back into my own home, it was all I could think about. With that, I would be able to see my dad easily.

My fate was sealed.

That's when I changed phones. I upgraded to something smarter. I never thought about my dad needing to phone me, or anyone else for that matter.

“God damn,” I sobbed, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. My eyes were sore from all the crying. Hell, even my heart felt worn out under the burden of it all. My misguided attempt to show my dad I wasn't such a shit any more, that I _matured_ , was a total joke. I was far from that and my decision to be nothing more than a prostitute proved my lack of maturity.

Who the fuck does that?

Eren Yeager, apparently.

I carefully slotted the last letter my dad sent back into the envelope.

It was my go-to option. I was about to do it again. I hated myself for that.

The money would keep the roof over my head, at least. Was that somehow a more noble reason to suck a stranger's dick for cash? No, I didn't think so.

I was fishing my phone out of my pocket, thumb hovering over the call button. I hesitated. I put the phone down.

For mom.

I sat up, leant my back to the wall, ran my fingers through my hair. Picked up my phone again. Stared at the number.

For dad.

I dialed.

“Eren!” Hange answered the phone, blasting my hearing into oblivion the second the call connected three rings later. Holding the phone away from my ear as they screamed energetically down the line, I waited with clenched teeth for Hange to finish. “Eren! Eren! Is it really you? Say something! Speak to me! Eren!”

“Yes, it's me. Hange, calm down a moment. Yes, yes it really is me.” I sighed out loud, but I have to admit hearing their voice was nice. I was smiling, sitting on my bed and toying with a loose thread on my pillow, waiting for them to eventually calm down enough for me to speak.

“How have you been? Business was slow without you, my dear. The others just don't bring in the money like you. What is the secret to your youthful face and money making ways?”

I laughed, the sound hollow. “If I told you my secrets I wouldn't be as valuable to you anymore. Look, I wanted to discuss with you the chance of me coming back to work...”

“You left me pretty high and dry for a while there.” Hange said, suddenly sounding stern. “Your regulars asked after you constantly. Especially one of them.”

“Oh?” I asked, more out of courtesy than genuine interest. It wasn't uncommon for regulars to take interest. I would make note to pay them extra attention in future. They were going to become my bread and butter, so to speak. “Who? Which one was it?”

“If I told you all my secrets...”

“Hange!” I playfully bit at the retort, playing into their hands.

“Haha! Oh, my darling. It was No. 57, you remember him?”

Oh, I remembered. That was the Corporal.

He was never far from my thoughts. My heart also recalled him, judging by the way it started flipping out and forgetting to beat properly. Suddenly I was very interested.

“Do you think I can see him soon?” I asked as casually as I could manage.

“I'll see what I can do. Eren, are you really sure you want to do this? I thought you were gone for good.”

“I won't let you down Hange. Now more than ever, I _need_ this.” That irked me. To admit it out loud somehow felt like revealing a weakness, a vulnerability. Every word I spoke was painfully true, and I felt like each one was another signature on another contract, signing parts of my soul away.

“Things aren't the same for me anymore, my circumstances have changed. I need everything you can give me.”

It didn't matter how I felt about doing it.

To keep my father's memory alive, to keep it close to me always, alongside my mother's. Since I could no longer go to him, I would keep part of him here, with me. That is the bandage I used to patch up my broken, mismatched feelings. It would be my new sense of purpose.

“We'll start you out slow.” Hange said, finally.

I released the breath I didn't know I was holding, an odd sense of relief and resignation washing over me.

“I can't have you vanishing on me again like that, it's bad for business. Next time, you're out for sure. Understood?”

“Understood!”

I ended the call shortly thereafter, dropping my phone down on the mattress and following suit myself. I stared aimlessly at the ceiling, feeling like the world was closing in on me one minute at a time.

That was it. I was back to the old ways.

I didn't even know if Hange would let me see the Corporal. I could only hope that they would. He was the only one I really wanted to see. The only one I could face without chewing myself up too much.

I sighed heavily, thumping my fist on the mattress several times to work the frustration out of my system. For now, all I could do was haul out my books and work on my assignments, praying that I would have somewhere to go this weekend.

Two days to go.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in the next chapter, I hope?


	10. Patience Is A Virtue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update last week, but here we are and with a slightly longer chapter! 
> 
> If you have a moment to share your thoughts, I'd be most humbled as always to read them.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far!
> 
> Edit: I commissioned an amazing artist for this chapter. Please check out her incredible work [here](http://pervypiksi.tumblr.com/post/157783936918/my-first-commish-is-done-and-i-did-it-for)!

“You seem... distracted today, Eren.” Armin said, slipping the seatbelt into place as I climbed in next to him. “You did it again.”

“Did what?” I asked, shooting him a puzzled look.

“You keep sighing. What's on your mind?” He started the engine.

I stopped myself from sighing at that, if only to prove him wrong. I wasn't doing it _that_ often, I'm sure. He was hypersensitive, that was all. “Nothing is on my mind.”

“You know, Eren. You really do suck at lying.” I was going to retort but he cut me to the punchline. “Don't you even think about mentioning Jean in the same sentence as the word 'suck'. I will crash your side of the car.”

“When did you get so sassy?” I guess I was a little sore at missing an opportunity to poke at their relationship.

“Don't change the subject.”

I thumped my head on the car seat, not knowing what to tell him. Friday afternoon and still no word from Hange. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Fuck all. My phone was never quiet this long, it was starting to freak me out.

I knew Hange was making me wait, but this long? I considered explaining my situation, always ended up thinking better of it. There was a golden rule to this job – your personal life is to remain just that at all times. Personal. Leave it at home. It would only complicate matters rather than smooth them over.

I sighed. I felt the air leave my lungs and was grateful when Armin didn't mention it. “It's been a long week. It's been a long couple of weeks.”

“I can appreciate that. But you seem to have been doing better lately. You can talk to me, Eren, about anything. You do know that, don't you?”

Not for the first time I considered spilling the beans. Right here, right now. Get it all off my chest. How would it feel to finally say the words to him? _I have sex for money_.

Temptation was a dangerous thing and I could feel the desire welling up inside me, threatening to push the words out of my throat where they clogged, before I had chance to decide if I really wanted to say it.

Following the threat of crashing the car, maybe it was better off left for another time.

“I know. Thanks, Armin.” I conceded with that, valuing my life for what little it was worth.

“You say that and you never do.” Armin shot me a look, nudging my shoulder with his hand.

“Heh, what can I say? I'll get through it.” I shrugged, wondering how much of that would be true. If Hange didn't call me with an appointment soon I'd be having a very different conversation with Armin not too far into the future.

He made a disgruntled noise, but otherwise let the subject drop. He knew better than to keep pushing. I'd tell him one day. We both knew that.

We parted ways at my house as usual, and I trudged into the house to face a long Friday night sulking.

Mikasa was buried in concentration on her lap, the TV muted, as I came into the house.

“Hey.” I said flatly, dropping my bag to the floor. I should do the same as her and spend this time wisely, studying. I knew this – I also knew I probably wouldn’t do it. I'd barely been able to focus at school the last two days, let alone at home where I was relatively free to do as I pleased (the naked trips to the fridge in the middle of the night had to stop when Mikasa saw more of me than she ever needed to, but otherwise I was free to do whatever).

“Hey, Eren. Welcome home.” Mikasa called, not looking up. “I made dinner earlier. It's in the fridge.”

“Thanks. What is it?”

“Go and have a look.” She quipped, unimpressed by my laziness.

Fair enough. I popped open the door and browsed, looking for edible goods.

On the second shelf, wrapped up in foil was – I lifted the cover and peeked underneath – I'm guessing stew. Yum. It wasn't even cold enough out for that. Knowing better than to complain, I called out a thanks and grabbed some chips from the cupboard, saving the proper food for later.

Upstairs in my room I threw myself down on my bed, stuffing chips into my mouth as I surfed the web on my phone. My thoughts began to drift to things I hadn't had the capacity to consider recently – things like the Corporal. What did he do during the week, during the month that I hadn't seen him? Hange mentioned how he missed me.

Was that really true?

Did that mean he asked after me?

I wanted to see him. I missed my bucket, I missed the odd quaintness of his apartment, the ancient décor from a bygone era.

My heart started to race as I imagined waltzing back into his apartment. Would he be pleased to see me? No more than usual, I guess. I couldn't expect him to wrap his arms around me and whisk me off my feet to the bedroom, could I?

Definitely not with his stature.

He could pull _me_ down for a kiss, and then I could whisk _him_ to the bedroom.

I missed him.

I really missed him.

And my phone still stared blankly up at me, no messages and no calls. No appointments. I began willing it to ring, praying to every celestial being, known or otherwise, to command Hange to grant me this one wish. _Let me see the Corporal._

I left my phone resting on my chest and closed my eyes, my mind now securely on the Corporal. My feelings were muddled, I realised, with nothing in particular presenting itself clearly. I was crushing on him, I suppose.

My job didn't very often bring me into contact with handsome men. Rich ones, yes, but sadly they were often lacking in the looks department. Some were alright. Most weren't. And then there was the Corporal. The elusive, enigmatic Corporal.

A lot of the attraction was down to his refusal to let me touch him. It was a tease, especially with a body like his. Well, how I imagined it to be. How it felt through his clothes that time was enough to set my imagination running.

Straight.

Down.

South.

When was the last time I'd gotten myself off? Awhile ago. With everything that happened, jacking it was the last thing on my mind. Except for today. It was very much on my mind today.

Then again, if I held it in I was sure to surprise my next customer. It may even get me a bonus if I came that much, and fast, too.

Holding off the desire to alleviate the tightness in my pants I forced my brain – and blood – elsewhere.

Though it took a little time to I ended up falling asleep.

I woke a few hours later, driven from my slumber by the other prominent need – hunger – and followed my senses back into the kitchen to reheat the stew. Mikasa was still studying in the living room. I sat alone in the kitchen eating, my phone on the table beside my hand. It felt glued to me, or I to it, unable to drag my eyes away for more than a few seconds at a time.

Despite all my praying and wishing, it remained silent.

Nothing. Not even Armin texted me.

When the bowl was empty, I threw it in the sink, fucked off that Hange was making me wait like this. It was agony.

“What's upset you?” Mikasa asked, coming into the kitchen to brew her tea.

“Nothing.” I said sulkily. “I'm going to have a shower and get an early one.”

“Alright... well, sleep well.” Mikasa watched me closely. She opted to keep her silence despite her obvious concerns.

I needed to get myself in check. Being a piss baby wasn't going to solve it. If Hange never texted, I needed to be pragmatic and get my ass in gear.

I kissed her cheek, hoping to soothe her worries, and went for my shower.

The water was pleasant but it didn't reach into me. I was moving mechanically, dowsing my head under the spray as if I could wash away the unsettled feeling in me from the outside.

I couldn't.

It remained as stubborn as a stain, murky and clogging my chest. I gave up in the end, flipping the shower off and folding a towel around my hips.

This... sucked.

I never thought I would become so dependent upon this job.

Only a short while ago I loathed myself for it; now, I felt all the cards were held by Hange, and waiting for them to play their hand was breaking me. The power shift didn't sit well with me at all. I preferred being in control, picking and choosing somewhat, or at least the notion that I could refuse.

If I had to blow the next desperate John then so be it. I didn't want to move back with Mikasa. Street walking was a damn sight more dangerous, and the cops would bust my ass if I was caught. Was it a risk I was prepared to take?

My troubled thoughts followed me back into my bedroom. I could feel them like demons, vying for attention over my shoulder. I'd long since given up trying to silence them.

I dried myself off, and was one leg into some comfortable pants when my phone buzzed.

I felt my heart stop beating. The blue light on my phone flashed once, twice, indicating a new message. I stared at it in disbelief, trying to talk myself down from the rush of adrenaline.

It could be anyone.

Mikasa.

Armin.

Heck, even Jean could have texted me.

With a less than steady hand I reached for it, taking a deep and shaky breath before opening the message.

 

> _No.57 will see you at 22:30._
> 
> _Scrub up thoroughly – nothing scented. Do not be late!_
> 
> _Cab booked._

“Fuck, yes!” I yelled in excitement. I wouldn't quite say I twirled, though it was something similar. The comfortable pants flew off my leg as I danced, not caring for my nakedness, overcome with joy. At last! About fucking time!

Time.

Time.

What _was_ the time, anyway?

I only had an hour to get ready!? Shit! Shit! Shit!

Clothes flew around the room as I scrambled for something to wear.

I wanted to look nicer than usual, to leave a lasting impression. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I wanted him to look at me and realise how much he wanted me. I could hope.

It was the most ungraceful half an hour of my existence. I tripped over my own foot as I tried to fit socks onto them, cussing under my breath – and out loud - as I went. This wasn't happening.

I was sure Hange was enjoying the idea of me rushing around like this. Not that I had any moral high ground from which to launch my complaints.

I'd take it all silently for now.

I took the stairs two at a time and jumped into my shoes.

“Did work message or something?” Mikasa asked, leaning on the living room door frame.

“Y-yeah,” I avoided looking at her as I grabbed my keys, “Don't wait up for me.” I said, kissing her cheek.

“The tips of your ears are pink, Eren.”

“Eh?”

“You're lying.”

“I'm not. Ah, my cab's here! I'll see you tomorrow!” I bolted out the door, breathless and heart pounding, dashing down the path to the waiting cab to avoid further interrogation.

I sunk into the seat, catching my breath, hating how I was surrounded by so many observant people. My ears were definitely not pink, I thought to myself, cupping my hands over them. It was something my mother used to say to me; I was a lazy child.

Mikasa always picked up my slack, doing more than her share of the housework, helping me with mine. Mom always knew when I hadn't done it by myself, declaring my ears were pink and pinching them gently. Since when did Mikasa pick up the habit?

An odd sensation swept over me as I recognized the buildings leading to the Corporal's apartment. I was nervous, my mouth drying up like California in a drought. The moisture gathered on my palms instead, and I wiped them hastily on my pants.

Damnit, why was I being like this? A few deep breaths later and I was honestly no better.

I tipped the driver as we arrived, taking another deep breath and barking mental orders to my legs to stop shaking. I was going to turn up looking like an old man at this rate, hunched over and knees knocking. It was not the impression I wanted to give after so long without seeing him. Best foot forward and all that.

I tilted my head back, staring up at the many darkened windows, light reflecting off the surface, offering nothing but a pleasant view. Could he see me, down here? I doubted it. I

pressed my finger into the buzzer, checking my phone as I waited to hear the click of the door lock releasing. I had five minutes to make it up to his floor.

The door opened and I made a run for the elevator.

There were two others in there, a man and a woman dressed in fancy ass looking clothes. They glanced me over, and I swear I saw them move over, further away from me as I got in. Whatever. I'd been lucky to date with no one seeing me thus far.

It was bound to happen at some point. Besides, if I was being brutally honest, she looked like a high-class hooker to me.

Not that they had a particular look.

I got that vibe; like a bad perfume, the smell of sexual opportunity hung in the enclosed air, as if the invisible particles were charged with an electric current. I was here for the same purpose, I guess. An activity in exchange for money. The difference? The Corporal wasn't going to fuck me.

They left on the 39th floor, and I carried on up to the 54th alone. I spent the time ironing out my clothes with my hand, scrutinising my face and hair and physique in the glass. It would have to do.

The doors pinged open, heralding my arrival. I breathed deeply, stepping out, feeling like it was my first ever appointment.

Oh, that was a fun memory. I was sure to be able to walk back out of this apartment unlike I was then.

I knocked on the door dead on 22:30.

 

* * *

 

“Hello, Sir.” I said, smiling widely, closing the door behind me. He looked as he always did; same clothes, same apathetic expression, cloudy skies in his eyes. He was surveying me, and I got the impression he was making sure it was really me; the way his eyes roamed from my feet, drinking me in piece by piece until settling on my face.

He stared at me long and hard, making my cheeks flush uncomfortably under the intensity of it.

“Is something wrong with me, Sir?” I asked, breaking the silence. I held my palms out, gesturing to myself.

“No.” He replied bluntly, still staring me down. “Welcome back.”

“...T-Thanks.” I said, shuffling on my feet. “Did you miss me?”

I don't know why I said it. It was stupid and it was out of my god damn mouth before I could stop it, where it sank like a fucking boulder in a pond. I was about to retract as much of my stupidity as I could when he spoke, not letting the awkward silence settle.

“I did. Your uniform is in the other room. I trust you can remember where that is.”

“Y-Y-Yes! Sir!” Well that was unexpected. I forced my legs to work, stumbling forward and laughing nervously as he turned to look at me, just as I caught myself. Damnit Eren – get it together.

On the edge of the bed was my uniform, the leather jacket on top. I ran my fingers across the embroidery appreciatively, lifting it to brush against my cheek. I missed it. I really had.

It was all part of his mystery, one I hoped to one day solve. Kind of. Part of me feared that when the final piece was slotted into place, that would be the end of our 'relationship'. It was a double-edged sword, and a feeling I wasn't all that used to.

“Where am I working today, Sir?” I asked, straightening the jacket as I walked back into the room. He was sitting in his chair, The Chair, one leg cocked over the other.

“Under the kitchen sink you'll find a cloth and some shoe polish. Bring them here.”

That's different.

I opened the kitchen cupboard and took a moment. My bucket. It was still there, waiting for me. Did anyone else use it at all? No, I didn't want to imagine that. It was all mine.

I hastily grabbed the two items and approached him.

“These, Sir?” I asked, holding them up in my confusion.

“Yes. That's what I asked for.” He watched me. I watched him. Time passed. “Oi, brat. Did you need a map to your knees?”

“E-Eh?”

“On. Your. Knees. _Brat_.” He pointed with a gloved finger to a space on the floor in front of his feet, gesturing like I was some kind of dog. As obediently as a mutt, I fell to my knees in the very same place designated to me, relieved to be off my legs and on stable ground – standing after a command like that was near impossible.

Being called brat twice in a row didn't go unnoticed, either. I gulped, trying to keep myself in check under the surging hormones flooding my system. Fuck, I knew I should have worked it off earlier when I had the chance.

He unfolded his leg, eyes boring into mine as he placed the sole of his boot on my thigh.

God was testing me. And I was failing.

“The polish.” He said simply. “Get to it.”

“Oh...r-right. Yes, Sir!” I stammered, hurrying to unscrew the tin. I rubbed one tip of the cloth into it and carefully applied it to the leather of his boot. It felt oddly intimate as I worked the cloth from the base of his shoe and up his taut calves; I cupped my left hand beneath his heel, lifting it slightly as needed.

I stole a peek from beneath my lashes at him, too afraid to get a proper look at his face.

I could feel his eyes on me, watching every movement with precision, missing nothing.

My body hummed under the attention, nervous and excited by it in equal parts. I spent many hours in these rooms wishing he would look at me and not a newspaper or a book. Now that it was happening, I wasn't sure what I felt the most.

I suppressed a shiver when our eyes met, the shock of being caught yet again jolting through me.

His brows were creased in deep concentration, I noted, his lips drawn into an ever-thinning line. I wonder what how he looked when his face was lifted in a smile. Had he ever smiled? The dark lines around his eyes spoke of tension, agitation, and sleepless nights.

And not the good kind of sleepless night, either. Those were all things I was sure I could alleviate for him, as was my job, if only he wanted.

He wouldn't have to ask; the envelope on the side table was all it took to confirm the circumstances for my being here. If he grabbed me by the shoulders now, forced me back onto the coffee table and did away with my jeans and shirt, I'd call it fair game.

I'd call it a great deal of things besides fair game, too, least of all being a miracle. My cheeks burned brightly as I realized I was staring straight at him, lewd thoughts flashing like neon signs in my head.

I lowered my head. Never again would I miss an opportunity to masturbate before seeing the Corporal.

“You have an expressive face.”

I froze. “S-Sir?”

“Don't move.”

No problems there.

My limbs were made of stone, felt as heavy as lead, the only movement from my fingers as they twitched against his ankle. A silence fell between us once more, only now the space between us was tense with _something_ ; the calm before the storm, the air moments before the heavens open.

You can _feel_ it. You _know_ it's coming.

It felt akin to the buzzing, electrified air of the elevator, only this time the promise was being whispered to _me_.

My skin tingled with it.

The cushioning of the chair creaked as he shifted his weight. I held my breath.

The lightning struck.

His fingers. They brushed over the crown of my head, disturbing the autumn mess of my hair, and if only I could show him the whirlwind of kicked-up leaves his fingers caused in me. My thoughts scattered, leaving nothing settled.

His breathing was labored as he gently brushed around the top of my head, my skin tingling from every simple, hesitant touch.

You may have worked out by now that I am not the smartest. Things don't come to me as quickly as they do others, it takes me the long way around to reach the same conclusion. I think I may have reached the destination; as the Corporal touched me I experienced what one may call an epiphany.

I was careful to stay very still, to let his hand wander, explore. He moved to my forehead, spreading his fingers and running them through my fringe, pushing my bangs away from my eyes, following on to the shorter strands at the back.

I couldn't help but shiver, my eyes closing as the feeling spread over me. His touch was hesitant, hovering as he fought a battle in himself I couldn't fathom.

“...It's alright.” I said, voice little more than a broken whisper. One false move and like a deer he'd run for the shelter of the forest. His breathing hitched, ceasing completely. I opened my eyes and my gaze met his, catching the anguish before he could erase it.

“Shut up.”

“It's alright. You can touch me.” I emphasized my point, lifting my head to meet his hand, forcing it back into my hair. “It feels good.”

“Pervert.”

I laughed faintly at that, at the irony of me being the one called such a thing. I wasn't the one paying for a boy to wear a uniform and clean my apartment and now, my shoes. I gripped his ankle tighter, squeezing enough to feel the delicate structure underneath, holding his gaze as my other hand drifted back up his leg.

I wanted to touch him, too.

The urge was overwhelming, consuming me as his fingers carded through my hair. My hand drifted further and further up, my eyes turning blind to the warning reflected in his.

“Don't you dare.” He said sternly.

“Sir...” I was playing with fire, I knew. I was dancing on the edge of his boot, fingers quivering at the lip of the leather, the next step his thigh. I wanted so much to grip the flesh and lift it over my shoulder, to kiss and bite along it....

“Oi, did you go deaf?” He said. The touch on my hair turned cruel, gripping the strands and yanking my head back awkwardly. “I said _don't_.”

“I-I'm sorry... Sir...” My throat was constricted by the angle, but it did little to dissuade my own arousal. It was shameful that I was the one growing hard by his actions but I could not help it. There was a fire burning in his eyes, an intensity I'd never seen before.

I wanted to push him a little further, to see what else I could spark in him, but I could tell he was having none of my shit.

He let go of my hair with such force I fell back, barely missing the coffee table.

The pot of polish clattered to the floor.

We were both breathing unsteadily.

Had I gone too far?

Or not far enough?

“...This was a bad idea after all.”

My blood ran cold, eyes wide as his words hit me like hailstones. His warmth was gone from me, the only traces he ever touched me living on in the tingle of my scalp and the unsteady rhythm of my heart. “Wh-what? Sir, please I-”

He shook his head, brows furrowed. “I think you should leave.”

“No.” I held my ground, looking up at him and pouring every ounce of sincerity I had in me into them. “I can help you, Sir. If you'll let me.”

“Help with what?”

I didn't expect him to actually give me a chance to explain. I was dumbstruck, winded by the sudden turn. I had to grab on to the rope he threw me, as in my heart I knew this would be our last meeting if I didn't respond correctly. It was an impossible gamble, one wrong word and I'd be gone, forever.

The next breath I drew inwards was deep.

“Your reluctance to be intimate.” I finally managed to say, watching in awe as his expression flickered. Twice in a single evening. I was getting hooked, judging by the way my heart skipped a beat, tumbling over itself in its inane hurry to match a beat I couldn't hear.

“That's... nothing to do with you.” He said, breaking eye contact. He withdrew into his seat. I wouldn't let him. I followed, like a hound dog with a fresh scent, sitting forward on my knees. I leaned into him, a hand on either side of the chair, our breathing spaces practically shared.

Oh, he looked pissed off, meeting my challenging gaze with one of his own.

“On the contrary. I think it has _everything_ to do with me.”

The dice were cast.

On what would they land?

Only the Corporal could decide.

 

 


	11. Breaking Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for returning for another chapter :') There's some developments ahead. I wonder if any of you know what's happening yet?
> 
> As always, I look forward to your feedback!

"Back off, _brat_.”

“Push me away if you don't want me.” I challenged. My stomach rolled nervously, lurching as my mouth spoke much more confidently than I felt. I kept my expression even. I couldn't risk showing the slightest weakness. Not now.

“Tch.”

His arms remained folded neatly in his lap, fingers laced, and I'm sure with paling knuckles. He was, though he tried very hard to compose himself, trembling.

He was torn between staring me down and looking anywhere but at me; it was almost amusing to watch his eyes slowly slink back to me, to find me still leaning into his space, invading, chasing him into a corner he couldn't escape from.

_What the fuck was I doing?_

“Let me do this.” I urged, encroaching dangerously further into his space. I was playing with fire. Ice cold fire, judging by the way he reacted to me. Every inch I gained he reclined further, until there was nowhere left to go.

If I wanted, and believe me I did want to, I could kiss him. It would be easy to claim his lips, as close as they were. I could almost feel them on my own. I imagined a hesitant kiss, his hands flying up to push me away and instead resting on my shoulders as he melted into me.

Okay, I was definitely probably maybe hoping for too much there.

A more accurate portrayal, I felt, would be him socking me in the jaw. He didn't strike me as the melting type.

“No.”

His reply came late. I wish it never came at all.

I knew better than to do it anyway. His tone was firm, unwavering, leaving no room for doubt. No meant no.

“I can help.” I whispered, holding my place.

“I don't need help.” He snarled.

“Then why am I here?” I ventured. It was more like slamming my fist onto the red button, the flare in his eyes almost blinding. I'd yet to have seen them that animated, and now I had, I was a little frightened. I'd gone too far and I knew it. Only it was too late to turn back.

I fucked up.

“That's a fair point. Why don't you leave?”

That stung. I pulled back slightly, giving him space to breathe, his prickly exterior making me recoil. What was I trying to achieve?

Earlier, I concluded something about him. Something I'm still trying to prove. “I don't want to.” I mumbled, sounding like a petulant child.

“That's not for you to decide.” He quipped.

I winced, his words painfully reminding me of my position. He could cut me out of his life without notice. Just like I did to him. Gone. Forever. Not a word. Just. Like. That.

“Let me in.” I was pleading, leading my eyes back to his like a wounded puppy.

Though my fingers were quivering, I reached out to touch his face, to trace them across his snowy cheek. He turned away, straining his neck as if my fingers were dipped in poison.

I stopped in my tracks, dropping my hand in momentary defeat. “I want to touch you.”

That was a truth. Never a more honest word had I spoken. My body ached for him in a way that I still found confusing. My body was humming to his tune, eager to play a part in his song, if only he would let me.

But he refused to sing at all, turning me away whenever I got too close.

“I don't want you to.” He said, voice filtering out into the apartment, away from me.

“Why not? Isn't that what I am supposed to do?”

He remained quiet at that. Could he not answer, or is it that he refused to? Which was it?

“You should leave.” He said finally, sighing heavily.

“I don't want to go.”

“I didn't ask if you wanted to.”

“Let me help.” I pushed.

“I told you. I don't need your help. Is that skull of yours too thick to understand that?”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I didn't think I was paying for a psychiatrist.” He scoffed.

“I don't think you were paying for a cleaner, either, _Corporal_.”

Like twin daggers his eyes were back on me.

“Enough.” He said simply, and he pushed me away.

His hand was on my shoulder, briefly, only long enough to shove me back. I let him do it, too.

“I'm sorry.” It was a genuine apology, spoken from the heart. It did nothing to lift the weight from it. I don't think anything would at this point.

I left the room, trudging into the spare room to change into my own clothes. I peeled the uniform off of me, stripping off the strange facade he built between us and returning to normality reluctantly.

As much as I wanted to stay in his world, my time was up.

Having only just come back to it, it sucked to be leaving so soon.

I'd blown it.

Completely.

I folded the leather jacket up neatly, the crossed sword emblem staring up at me for what was probably going to be the last time. My training was over.

I was going to leave here tonight, and he would phone Hange to end our contract. He may leave a complaint, and Hange would fire my sorry ass. All because I was a stupid idiot who couldn't keep himself in check.

He was still sitting in The Chair as I came out. His chin rested in his palm, balanced on the armrest, eyes unseeing as he lost himself in his thoughts. He didn't glance up at me as I headed towards the door.

Leaving was hard. My hand rested on the handle, refusing to move. I was lingering, unwelcome, in a place I didn't belong. I left the envelope of money on the side. I didn't want his money.

Not tonight, not after the shit I just pulled.

I wanted to say something. The words were piling up in my throat. Where to begin? I doubted he would listen to me if I did manage to speak. Yet leaving without saying anything felt wrong. It felt too final, as if I was giving him no reason to even try and continue seeing me.

I wasn't ready to give him up.

“Corporal,” I said, clearing my throat, “You probably hate me right now. I get that. I'm... I'm not all that sure what I'm doing, that I am handling this right. It's new to me, too. Don't... don't give up, okay? Don't give up on me, and... don't give up on yourself.”

I left the apartment without waiting to hear if he would respond. I was afraid of what he might say. I was terrified, in fact. My reflection in the elevator was pale, dazed and a little broken.

I'd begged to see him. I'd pleaded with Hange and celestial beings alike, only to throw it all away on a notion.

I clambered out of the elevator as breathless and worn as if I'd taken the stairs down, all fifty-four flights. My hand shook as I took out my phone. I shot Hange a text, requesting the cab to come early, and waited impatiently for it to arrive.

Hange texted me back immediately.

 

>   
>  _You left already? Your cab is on the way sweetie. I hope you're alright!_

 

My stomach lurched and the nausea was overwhelming. I wanted to vomit, right there on the street. I put my hand to stomach, trying to soothe myself from the outside, rubbing gently and focusing on anything but what I'd done. It helped, if only a little. By the time the cab pulled up I was ready to crawl.

Safely in the back of the car I texted Hange back. I told her I was fine and left it at that. I didn't have the will to explain right now. One battle at a time.

I closed my eyes and let my head lull back onto the headrest, my thoughts running away with me, to places I didn't want them to go.

The Corporal.

What did I think I knew about him? I wasn't too sure if it even had a name. What I did know was his reluctance to physically touch me ran far deeper than I first presumed. Things were slowly making sense to me, not that it probably mattered anymore. The gloves he wore, the cleaning, the uniform I wore. It was his way of slowly getting used to me. Of learning to trust me, to accept me. Why he was afraid – I couldn't say. But he had a fear of intimacy. I was certain of that. And I was his way of reaching out.

And what did I go and do?

Ruin all of that precious ground we had covered.

The cab pulled up at my house.

I was fishing for my keys when I noticed the living room light on. My heart twisted in my chest.

“I told you not to wait up.” I said, coming in through the door. I slipped my shoes off.

“I didn't. I was still working on my project.” Mikasa stretched and yawned, closing her laptop. “How was work? You weren't gone all that long.”

“Ah... yeah, turns out they didn't need me for much. Well, I'm going to bed. Night, Mikasa.”

“Sleep well, Eren.”

Lying in bed, my thoughts were a mess, twisting and tangling into knots as tonight replayed in my head. It was a mirror of our first meeting, only tonight I cared so much more for the outcome.

Because tonight, for the first time, something made sense to me about the Corporal. I felt closer to him with that one tiny insight, and I wanted to get even closer, to ease the burden that he carried. I didn't know how or if I even could be the one to do it, but I was determined to try.

If he let me.

Which he wouldn't.

Not anymore.

The situation was out of my hands. He may call Hange to complain or book me again. Only time would reveal how badly I'd hurt him. Patience... wasn't my forte.

I clawed at my hair, kicking my feet and groaning.

Why was I such a stupid idiot!?

I should have left him alone. Let him come to me – in his own time. He'd managed twice before, and even on our last meeting he was letting me touch him. I pushed it, I pushed it way too far.

The memory of his thigh, soft and palpable in my grasp, was one I wouldn't forget for the longest time. Nor would I relinquish the memory of his breath catching, or how our eyes locked together with such intensity it left me fighting for breath, too.

I wanted so badly to kiss him; to claim his lips in a hesitant kiss that soon melted into something more eager, more passionate.

I wanted to reach down into the dormant desire in him and pull him free, stir him up, make a mess of him.

The air around him, when I was close enough to breathe the same air as he did, pulsed with a tingling electricity that was addictive. Like a thousand tiny sparks my skin lit up wherever we connected, the rest of me hungered for him.

I wanted him like I'd never wanted a man before. Or woman, for that matter.

Ah... this was bad.

I got up from the bed, unbuckling my jeans and shimmying out of them. I pulled my shirt off, too, flinging it into the dark and hoping it didn't knock anything down – it didn't. Even if it had, I wasn't going to deal with it until morning.

There were other things on mind, more pressing matters to attend.

Several weeks had passed since I last saw any action. I wasn't interested, and by taking a break from work to grieve over the loss of my father, my libido waned accordingly.

Yet all it took was an hour or two in the Corporal's company to rekindle the flame, and it burned brightly, blinding me to anything else. I'd wanted to do this before seeing him, but managed to resist.

I was half-hard already as I laid myself down on the bed, wrapping my hand around my cock and gingerly stroking up and down, feeling the ticklish pleasure mounting with every motion.

I clenched my fingers at the tip, squeezing a droplet of precum out and carefully collecting it to anoint my tip.

I shuddered at the sensation, a shaky breath rolling out as my fingers worked the top of my cock, enticing the sweetness from deep within me.

I could feel the ache far inside, the need to be satiated driving me on, and I wrapped my palm around myself and started rhythmically pumping, trying to build the initial teasing tendrils into something more.

No matter how hard I tried to find the right pacing I was going nowhere fast. It wasn't happening. Not like this, anyway. I needed something more.

Sighing heavily at my body's refusal to give in to what it clearly wanted, I reached into my bedside drawer and rooted blindly around.

Spare condoms. A bullet vibrator. Batteries.

Ah – the small tube of lubricant.

Treasure in hand I eased off the bed, tossing a pillow onto the floor to cushion my knees, and bending myself over the mattress. It was months since I last did this to myself – for pure pleasure, anyway.

I coated my fingers in the cold lubricant and brought them behind me and parted the cheeks of my ass (I was never sure if I should reach underneath or behind, they both seemed equally awkward if I'm truthful).

My breath hitched as my finger slid inside, the familiar but strange sensation of being filled never one I could get used to. It always felt peculiar, alien even, but tonight I hungered for this. My cock jerked as I wriggled my finger, widening myself in preparation for the second finger, a thick droplet of precum trickling down my shaft.

I held off on touching my front, concentrating on easing another finger into myself, spreading them apart and loosening the tightness, all the while smothering my whimpers into the remaining pillow on my bed.

I'd forgotten how good the strangeness could be; stretching myself wide I let out a deep moan, feeling myself come apart from within. I worked the two fingers steadily back and forth, fucking myself with them as the pillow steadily soaked up my drool.

I was open mouthed and panting by the time I took my right hand and enveloped my straining cock, biting into the pillow hard to drown out a pleasured moan. I was starved for this, my lust consuming me as I drove my fingers harder into my ass, matching the rhythm with my other hand is it swept over my cock.

The dual stimulation was maddening.

My thighs quivered, buckling under the pressure of holding me up, forcing me onto my chest. The pressure constricted my breathing, making me light headed as my breathing became even more strained.

It served only to increase the intensity of my pleasure, and soon my hips bucked to meet my hands, my skin glistening with sweat as I fucked myself into oblivion.

I couldn't hold on.

The sensations laced together inside me, and with a deep, guttural groan I came undone. I bit into the pillow, tearing at the fabric with my teeth as the intensity of my orgasm pummelled me.

Somewhere on the outskirts of my hazy mind I prayed Mikasa wouldn't hear me, much less investigate. There was only one person I wanted to imagine seeing me in this state.

_The Corporal._

Whether I moaned the name out loud or not I wasn't sure.

_The Corporal._

I thrust my fingers deeper into me, the image of him looking down at me blazing hotly behind my closed lids. My body constricted impossibly around my fingers with each spasm, my other hand slowing down its frantic pace to ease the last of it from me, spilling every drop I had onto the pillow and over my hand.

I couldn't move, wave upon wave of ecstasy crashing over me, leaving me nothing but a wreck in their wake.

Fuck, that felt good.

As I expected it to be, my load was copious, my hand drenched in the sticky fluid.

I cleaned myself up quickly (as quickly as wobbly legs would allow) and fell into bed, satisfied at last, though my worries were never far from me. Coming down from my high, I sluggishly recalled the less favourable details of the night, hating myself more for not having a second pillow to smother myself with.

Oh well.

Things would look brighter in the morning, right?

Right.

 

* * *

 

Wrong.

I sat at the kitchen table chewing my lip rather than the sandwich I made for myself, staring pensively at the wall.

What the fuck was I going to do? The time was quarter to one.

I managed to successfully burn half the day sleeping off last night, much to Mikasa's dismay. She was in the living room, right where I'd left her, tapping away on her laptop. The only signs that she had moved at all were the change of her clothes and the fresh scent of orange scented shampoo that lingered in the air when she walked past me, opening the fridge, and pouring herself a glass of milk.

She leaned on the counter drinking it slowly, eyes finding their way to me and my uneaten ham sandwich.

“You need to eat.” She said quietly, wiping the remnants of milk from her lip.

“I know. I'm getting there. How's the school work? “I said, disinterested in anything she was suggesting.

“Boring and tedious. You going to work today?”

“...Not sure. They haven't phoned yet.” I didn't want to discuss this today. I _really_ did not want to.

“Why don't you go out with Armin?” She proposed.

“He'll probably be busy with Jean.” _Ugh_. There was another thing I didn't want to clog my mind with. I was seeing enough of the _My Little Pony_ reject at school lunch times. It was a wonder he wasn't waiting in the car every morning alongside Armin.

“Finish your breakfast.” Mikasa urged, putting the empty glass in the sink, indicating the end of our conversation. “And try not to waste your day sulking.”

“I'm not sulking!” I protested.

She already left the kitchen, returning to her work and leaving me alone with my sandwich – and not sulking. I poked the food around my plate, my appetite non-existent.

I was full up on anxiety, nervously glancing at my phone every few seconds. Dammit, I'd only just been in this situation a few days ago, yet here I was once more, desperately clinging to a frayed lifeline.

I was either going to be rebooked, fired, or never seen by him again. I had no say in any of it whatsoever. The decision wasn't mine to make. It was his.

If that was our last meeting, I knew I wouldn't be able to take it. I was invested in him, somehow, the time we'd spent together fascinating me more now that I understood what was going on with him.

What I presumed to know, at least. I mean I scratched the surface to reveal an essence of his true self, and with that snippet in hand I was hungry for more knowledge. I wanted to confirm my theory. Though I wasn't about to stop there. I wanted to delve deeper, to get under his skin, know him.

It wasn't work anymore.

It was... personal.

I wanted to know him for myself, as Eren Yeager. A dangerous admission that could easily land me in trouble.

That is, if he sees me after how I behaved the night before.

I ate my sandwich.

It tasted like cardboard. I washed it down with water and cleaned up the kitchen, dragged my ass upstairs, the intent to play video games to eat away the rest of the afternoon. It was a waste to spend my weekend like this, with school looming closely at the end of tomorrow, even so despite I still couldn't bring myself to care.

That was, until my phone buzzed with a message from the heavens.

It was Hange. With an appointment.

I skimmed the message over for the details, finding no trace of the man I longed to see.

It wasn't the Corporal.

It was someone else entirely. At least I'd pick up some cash for the bills on this one. My mood picked up slightly when I buried the bitter disappointment, and I threw myself in the shower, dedicating the rest of my day to priming my body for whatever tonight's meal ticket wanted of me – the video games could wait.

 

* * *

 

“F-Fuck me harder...!”

I didn't recognize my own voice as I said it, a breathless moan, more of a demand than a plea. My partner acquiesced, gripping the cheeks of my ass more firmly and bucking his hips up into me so hard my brain was rattling.

I leaned my head forward, against his ear, to stop me from concussing myself on the wall. I licked the shell of his ear, panting hard into it, murmuring lewdly as he pounded me.

“Yes... there... right there.... ahh...!”

It felt so fucking good I might actually come.

I wrapped my legs around his chubby waist, angling myself better, feeling him slide deeper into me with a throaty moan - he was certainly enjoying himself.

We never made it to the bed.

No sooner did I confirm the payment than he was on me, tearing at my jeans hastily, fumbling with the condom, sloppily kissing at my lips to fill the time in between heated touches. He'd lifted me clean off my feet then, pressed me to the wall beside the door, and thrust inside without so much as a hello.

My jeans and underwear were hanging off my ankle, flapping around- with the eagerness of his movement.

I could tell from the gleam of sweat on his forehead he was about to come, and I grinned, tightening my muscles around him to coax it from him.

“Come... come inside me.” I whimpered, reaching between us to tug at my own throbbing cock. I held his gaze momentarily, long enough to light a fire in him, to send him over the edge.

I was suspended, caught between his hips and the wall, our bodies pressed neatly together, as he came hard. He shuddered, and I could feel his cock twitching with every spurt. His breathing was ragged, loud and wet in my ear, as were the kisses he placed there as he slowly came back down.

When he was completely spent, he pulled out, carefully peeling the condom off his flagging dick. Dicks looked so worthless when they weren't hard, wriggling around like helpless worms.

I stripped off the rest of my clothes and made for the shower, sure he was done with me. Our time was nearly up anyway.

The water pummelled the dirt out of me. I loved high powered showers, the water beating on me like I was a drum, washing it all away. A decent hotel with a decent shower. They were quite hit and miss, I learned over the months.

I jacked myself off while I was in there, quickly and efficiently, biting hard into my lip as I came. I watched it swirl down the drain, partly wishing he had been interested enough to do it for me.

I wasn't paying _him_ to make _me_ come, I suppose.

Out of the shower I dried and dressed quickly, planting a lingering kiss on his lips and thanking him. The envelope tucked into my pocket, I winked and made my exit, leaving him on the bed recovering.

I hoped to see him soon. I rather liked the way he fucked. It was aggressive and raw and needy and perfect for helping me forget what I was missing.

The cab was outside waiting to take me home. All in a day's work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew!
> 
> Finally got some proper smut in there. 
> 
> Sorry if you're still waiting for Levi to get in there =/


	12. Business And Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Levi's POV.
> 
> I know last time some of you were confused or disliked the disruption, but it's a thing that happens every now and then so please bear with it!
> 
> As always, your continued support is everything to me. Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Corporate office buildings.

To me they were nothing but a giant glass cage, no matter how you dressed them up or what name you hoisted above the door. I worked on the top floor of this particular cage.

It plagued me how those who are top brass at a company end up having to travel the longest to their work stations, a thought that followed me as I stalked through the reception, barely glancing at the receptionist as she greeted me warmly. All fake smiles and lashes and goodness knows what else.

I may speak to someone about replacing her with one of those realistic looking robots Japan are so fond of; maybe we already had one and I didn't realize it yet. Was that the big joke everyone was waiting for me to comment on?

The elevator pinged and I stepped out into the quiet hustle of my department. The phones were silent, the voices were low, the tapping on the keyboard minimal.

Exactly as it should be first thing on a damned Monday morning.

“Good morning, Levi.”

“Good morning, Petra.” I greeted the strawberry blonde politely. She smiled, warmly, and not at all fake. It was genuine.

I liked her smile.

She was one of the very few people I could stand to have near me. Which was why I put her in charge of handling things in my absence. I could trust her to get shit done.

“Anything I should know?” I inquired, running through the routine speech like our dialogue was programmed. By now, it practically was. Same questions, different days. The never-ending cycle of working life.

“You have a visitor.” She said, and I turned in time to see her wince. “I'm sorry. I know how you feel about it but he insisted.”

“Is that so?” My lips were tight as I spoke. I was already done with today, and still with seven hours left to drag my ass through, it was only just starting.

Nothing else I could do if he was already here. Looking up, I could see the outline of his broad bulk as he waited patiently in my office. What on Earth could he want with me first thing in the morning? Did he not know I was dangerous at this hour?

Perhaps today was the day he finally realized hiring me was not the best idea.

“It's too early.” I grumbled, pushing open the frosted glass door of my office and storming inside. I placed my bag down beside the desk, not failing to note the stack of papers waiting for me there. At least they were neatly arranged in a pile, though that didn't detract from the amount of them.

I sat down, lacing my fingers together in front of me and returning his steady gaze. “What did I miss, Erwin?”

“Good morning, Levi.” Erwin smirked, not at all phased by my moods. “I came to discuss your bonus for the month, following your successful campaign a few months prior. Congratulations, Levi.”

Erwin Smith, owner of Titan Romance, held his hand out for me to shake. He thought better of it a moment later, smiling knowingly to himself and sitting back in his chair. “Sorry.” He muttered.

“The campaign's success was not all down to me. If not for that lot out there,” I inclined my head to the door, “It would never have worked.”

“You have an excellent team working under you.”

“Was there anything else?” I prompted, keen to have our discussion over with. The whole time we chatted, that stack of papers remained the same size. Of course, it was never going to be that easy.

“As a matter of fact, there was. Levi, about the other day-”

“Please, Erwin. We are at work.” I placed my fingers on the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. “You promised we wouldn't discuss it here.”

Erwin lowered his head in admission of his guilt. “I'm sorry. I haven't heard from you about it in a while and I wanted to make sure things were alright.”

“Everything is fine.” I said tersely, wanting him out of my office already, my chest heavy with unwanted emotion. I'd had a shitty weekend and now Monday was following suit. “I will call you tonight.”

“That's what I wanted to hear. I'll speak to you then.” Satisfied with my response, Erwin pushed up from his seat, lingering in front of me, thinking better of withholding whatever it was he wanted to say, and then left. When I heard the door click into place I let out a sigh, swivelling on my chair to look out the window.

I hated being boxed in.

I hated the dark underbelly of this building, which is why I insisted on my space being decked out in large windows, offering me a view of the city below and the blue sky above – well, what I could make out between the other high rise buildings anyway.

Sometimes, if I stared out long enough, I almost let myself believe I was as free as a bird flying in the blue expanse, and not the second in command of a damn dating website.

_Titan Romance – Breaking Down Your Walls with Colossal Romance_ _!_

Whoever thought that shit up?

It was probably Erwin.

No, it had to be him. He was never that creative and the tag-line was anything but imaginative.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat back down, and pulling my laptop from my bag, I resigned myself to my fate.

By lunch time I was lagging. My stomach was filled on nothing but tea, steadily replenished throughout the morning as I worked through the pile of documents. I needed a break.

I called Petra into my office.

A moment later, she appeared. “Afternoon, Levi. Is everything okay?” She asked, sitting herself down as I gestured for her to do so, her brows furrowed. I worried for her; if she frowned too much, she may end up looking as tired as me, and that would not be good for her.

“Relax, Petra. I need you to email the rest of the team and let them know you'll all be receiving a bonus at the end of the month.”

“Oh? Levi, that's amazing! Thank you!” She exclaimed, the frown from earlier erased. She looked happy, and that's how she should always look. “What did we do to earn that, may I ask?”

“It's for the hard work on our last campaign. Good job.” I said. Praise where praise is due. My team worked hard, bringing in thousands of subscriptions to the website. It was only fair to share the profits with those that rightfully earned them.

“Thank you, Sir.” She said, smiling broadly. “The bonus couldn't have come at a better time, you see...”

“Are congratulations in order?”

“I believe they are. But, it's a secret. You're the only other person to know.”

“Be sure to tell me what it is when you know.”

She thanked me again and left.

Children, huh? What an implausible idea for myself.

Her husband was Oluo, who also worked in this department. He was responsible for answering email inquiries after failing miserably to use the phones. He had the unfortunate habit of chewing his own tongue.

Petra and Oluo unwittingly met through our dating site, and made one of our success stories. They had their own page on the site, which would be updated shortly to reflect the ongoing success of their relationship.

Besides Petra and Oluo, my department also employed Gunther and Eld. Gunther was in charge of handling finances – the yield from monthly subscriptions as well as our expenditure. Eld overlooked the statistics, ensuring there was no downward spiral leading to our bankruptcy.

Each person was chosen based on individual skill and dedication to their work, and I chose them all personally. I had no time for slackers or unskilled workers. I was proud of my team. They were successful in their personal lives, no less, as well.

It was part of Erwin's company policy; what kind of dating site has single, hopeless individuals working for them?

I was the only exception to the rule, and by proxy, Erwin, too.

What a ridiculous pair _we_ made.

I guess it couldn't be helped. Not so long as I remained the frigid, middle aged man I'd become. My little problem, the one I'd been getting help with, was throwing a wrench in everything. And now I was no longer going to be seeing the _little brat,_ that wrench would most likely remain forever.

That little shit. He pushed me too far.

Why did he have to go and do that?

I was staring at my laptop, the email to some other corporate bigwigs mostly completed, the final sentences refusing to take shape as my mind made a run for freedom out the window. At this rate, I'd be better served going out there after them.

I was thinking about him, as I often found myself doing these days. He was taking over my mind when I most definitely shouldn't be preoccupied with him. I needed to focus on realistic possibilities. Besides, I was not going to call again. I should never have phoned in the first place.

Then why, I challenged, was the number still logged in my phone?

At the thought of it, my phone suddenly felt heavy in my pants pocket, filling with the weight of all my inner guilt. Much the same, my heavy feelings clung to the hands of time, slowing them down impossibly and dragging the day out far longer than it should have been, leaving me keen to get the hell out of here.

At the earliest opportunity, I closed my laptop and packed up to go home, only realizing I was the last to leave as I stepped out of my office. Every desk was empty, computers shut down and chairs long since grown cold. Not even the cleaner was still here, though she should have been.

This place wasn't even half as clean as it should be.

Figures.

At least I was caught up on my paperwork.

Down in the parking lot I fished for my keys, sighing as I got behind the wheel of my beloved car. Not for the first time, I mused about driving off into the night, escaping to some other city and leaving all this shit behind.

And not for the first time, I knew I was tied to here, to myself. There was no escape from that. It wouldn't be right for me to leave Erwin, either. That loyal bastard would end up following me.

My phone was ringing as I got out the car. Speak of the devil.

“I said I would phone you.” I barked, answering it.

“I know what you're like. We need to talk, Levi.” Erwin said. It was his _serious_ tone. The constipated one. The one that made me unlock my front door and head straight to the drinks cabinet to pour a stiff whisky.

“Let's talk, then.” I took a sip, letting it burn down my throat. I swirled the ice cubes, enjoying the sound of them clinking on the glass.

“Did you go to see the psychiatrist I recommended?”

“No.”

 _He's only trying to help_ , I told myself. _Don't be so hard on him._

I heard his frustrated sigh down the phone. It crackled in my ear. “You promised you would, Levi. What happened?”

“I don't want some stranger psychoanalyzing me, Erwin.”

“That's understandable.” He paused. “It wasn't the best idea. I should have been more considerate.”

I took another sip of the whisky. The weight in my chest was back.

Why couldn't love be as simple as we made it look on our site? As easy as Petra and Oluo made it seem?

I sign up, I find a man, I get married.

Probably skip the children.

Grow old together.

Be happy.

I poured another whisky at that thought.

“It's not your fault. It's mine. You need to find someone worth your time, Erwin.”

“To me, you are worth every second of every day.” He replied smoothly. Damn, how can he say such mushy shit and be serious at the same time?

Every word, however, fell on my shoulders like boulders, weighing me further and further into the ground. “You may never come to understand that yourself. I know that, I am prepared for that eventuality. But you can't honestly tell me you're happy like this.”

Like an arrow, he shot straight to the heart of the issue. He could see it in me. I knew that. I couldn't hide from him how I felt about it. It was lonely and cold being this way. For me, it was like that. No matter how hard I tried to shut it off, part of me longed to feel love. Even if it was just the once.

“What if it never happens? What then?” I downed the rest of the second glass. I poured a third and I took it to the living room, collapsing onto the couch and cradling the phone to my ear.

“We will cross that bridge when we come to it. I am not giving up on you. I can't. For both our sakes, Levi, I can't walk away from this.”

Did I want him to give up on me?

Hard to say.

I thought about my desire to drive away, as far as possible. Could I really cut him out of my life entirely? I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. I was a fully grown man, working at the top as part of a successful company, a car and a house paid for no less. I lived well.

There was only one issue in my life and it was doing it's damnedest to ensure it ruined me from the inside out. Maybe I should suck it up and accept Erwin. But something was stopping me from making the easy choice.

Was it my own masochistic nature?

Or was it my sadistic side?

“Promise me one thing, Levi. Promise you won’t give up on yourself without even trying. For your sake, not mine. I am not ready to throw the towel in, not by a long shot.”

“Then keep trying.” I said at last. “Maybe I should just hook up with a stranger and see if that works.”

I was being facetious.

“...There has to be a better, _safer_ way, I'm sure. Unless that is what you want to do.”

“I don't know why you're so adamant to help.”

“I am your friend if nothing else, Levi.”

I tried not to hear the pain in his voice as he said those words. I knew very well he wanted to be more than that, and was biding his time – until I was ready to commit. He was more involved in my life now than ever, albeit perhaps not quite as he would have liked.

He was certainly my friend. He was the only man on this Earth I would give such an esteemed title to. “That you are, Erwin. For better or worse.”

“I like to think for better. You know, if it's too much I will leave it alone. If you can put your hand over your heart and tell me you're happy, I will never speak of it again.”

“You weren't supposed to know in the first place.” I mumbled.

“I guessed that much, too.” He chuckled. “We'll work it out, somehow. It doesn't have to be that degree of physical; I can live without that.”

“No, you can't. Don't lie to me.”

He hesitated. He was calculating his next words, weighing up if he would get away with smoothing things over or if it was better to speak closer to the truth. I don't really think it was his intention to lie; he genuinely meant it when he said it, he just didn't realize the full consequences of such a statement.

“I want to be able to hold you at least, Levi. I've gone this long without it, I can do it all over again if it means having you.” His voice dropped low. I heard the familiar longing laced between his words, could imagine the sorrow on his face.

This was becoming too sentimental for me. I felt myself shutting off, disinterested, retreating. “I'm working on it.” I sighed, not retreating far enough to stop myself speaking.

I cared for Erwin; I cared for him more than I wanted to, and hurting his feelings was not on my agenda. Which was why I couldn't allow him false hope and promises.

I really was working on it.

“I'm glad to hear it.”

“I want... to know how things feel.” I whispered, part of me hoping he wouldn't hear me. He did.

“I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready to take that step, I'll be waiting for you.”

I finished the glass of whisky, idly musing if I, for the first time, was actually drunk. I never managed it, regardless of the amounts of potent liquid I threw down my throat.

I was stone cold sober still, Erwin's voice rumbling softly down the phoneline, anchoring me to the truth of his words.

He was putting his life on hold for me. He had been for more years than I cared to recount, all in the blind hope I would one day open my arms to him. He was tenacious, I had to give him that.

He was why I called for the Scout in the first place.

“I'm going to bed.” I surrendered, not wanting to go further into this.

“Goodnight, Levi. Sleep well.” Erwin was smart enough to know when enough was enough, and he let me go without a fight.

I hung up.

Erwin Smith is a good man.

Excellent prospects and bound to be the perfect husband, if only he settled on someone other than me.

Handsome, untouched by his years despite nearing forty, wealthy and owner of a successful company – you'd be a fool not to. Superficial flimsy aside, Erwin's got the personality. Caring, loyal, and compassionate; the complete package rolled into one very tall, very broad man.

And I was a fool.

God damn, I was a fool.

His confession was blunt and to the point, delivered with a single red rose on a wintry night some ten years ago. I was twenty-three at the time and slightly less apathetic then – only slightly. I didn't realize Erwin meant it as seriously as he did; to remain by my side all this time, doggedly carrying his feelings from one year to the next. Never dating, never giving love a chance with anyone else.

It's as if his heart belongs to me, and only me.

And I am the one man on this Earth who can't bring himself to accept it. Not while I'm in this state.

Not while I only live half a life. Would I accept it when I got over it? I was sure Erwin was putting all his chips on that gamble, and a heck of a gamble it was.

I hadn't lied when I said I was working on it.

The empty glass of whiskey I had been cradling was now on the table, and instead I scrutinized my bare palm. The one I'd touched the brat with.

Something I was prone to letting myself do more of recent, but then that was why I saw him in the first place. Things were moving quicker than I thought possible, none more so than our last session. The little shit went too far. And he knew it, too, judging by the look on his face.

For a moment, in the depths of his eyes, I saw the fire in him. It burned brightly, igniting suddenly and threatening to consume us both. I was lured by it, drawn in, eager to reach out with trembling fingers and touch the flame of his passion.

Fire burns. I had to extinguish it before we were both lost to it.

I couldn't see him again.

For my sake.

For his own sake.

And, for Erwin's.

 


	13. Much Ado About Eren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter caused no end of trouble. Please believe me when I say I was roasted multiple times for things during the editing process. It also went through several overhauls, name changes, and caused later chapters to be moved, added, and rewritten. I'm glad to be officially done with this one!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as the others. Things are a little different here so please bear with me. Hopefully the narrative is different enough...

_ Jean sure slept like the dead _ , I thought to myself as I scooped his shirt up off the floor and slipped it on. It was far too big for me, the sleeves overhanging and the hem falling to my knees, but I kind of liked that. 

It made me feel special. 

I tiptoed out the room though I'm sure I didn't need to, the thunderous roar of Jean’s snoring all but confirming he was still asleep. I headed for the kitchen to rustle up breakfast, easing myself down the stairs and humming a light tune as I went.

My grandfather was out for the morning, most likely entertaining himself with a round of cards with his friends, leaving me alone with Jean and an entire Sunday to burn together. 

What better way to start than with bacon and eggs? He was sure to be hungry when he eventually woke up.

Things... were going well between us. If last night was anything to go by, things were going very well. I was blushing as I took the bacon from the fridge, my mind replaying this part and that until I was unable to focus on the task at hand. To think I’d really  _ done that _ , and  _ said that _ , and let Jean  _ do that _ .  

I prayed he wouldn’t mention it. I don’t think I could handle the embarrassment so soon afterwards.

Despite this, I wanted to confide in Eren. Some part of me wanted to share my experience, to tell him that his best friend wasn’t the sweet creature everyone presumed him to be. I wanted to prove their image of me  wrong. That was… probably not the right way to feel. 

If I told Eren, would he be happy for me?

He probably wouldn't want to know, his pride hurt that I'd taken that step before he did, and with Jean no less. I liked to think he would be happy; after a sarcastic word or two about Jean, he’d pat me on the back or ruffle my hair, burying the attack on his pride where I or no one else could see it.

Taking several rashers of bacon from the packet I placed them in the pan, poking at it with the spatula and filling the house with the mouthwatering scent. My thoughts were far from breakfast by now.

I never expected to be the first to commit to someone. Eren was somehow too flippant and disinterested in other people to form romantic attachments. A fact I learned the hard way, and only after years of my feelings going blatantly unnoticed was I able to find someone who liked me back. Ever since we were children, I'd carried a hopeless flame of love for that airhead. I was smart enough to know it would probably never happen, no matter how I longed for it. Not even the hottest girls in our year got a second glance from him, so why would I? His meek, bookish friend wasn't noticed by anyone, or so I thought. 

Someone  _ did _ notice me. Of all the people in the world, I found it strangely amusing that it would be the arch enemy of my previous crush. Jean Kirschstein.  _ My _ boyfriend. 

Jean was different. Jean was like me, in a way, only he had the false bravado to override his weakness. I only had weakness combined with a timid nature. My sense of justice was strong, regardless, and that earned me more than a few bruises as a kid before Mikasa and Eren had the chance to step in.  

I cracked an egg and poured the contents into the pan, the sizzling erupting into the air like static on a television.

Though their constant bickering wore me out, I loved Jean and Eren in their own way. With Mikasa back home, I was able to see her from time to time, too. Her worry for Eren seemed only to increase day by day, as did mine.

I knew he was lying to us. From my conversations with Mikasa my suspicions only grew; if he thought I was genuinely buying his “late night shifts at some unknown store” story, he was an even bigger idiot than I gave him credit for. 

The only problem was deciphering what he tried to hide. 

With a little digging, the answer was sure to be revealed. I only left it out of respect to him; he’d tell us if he wanted us to know, and so long as he wasn’t in danger, I wasn’t going to interfere. 

Breakfast was cooked. My thoughts turned back to the important man in my life, asleep on my bed upstairs. I hooked the egg onto the plate beside the bacon, stepping back to admire my work. 

All that was left was a glass of fresh orange juice, poured straight from the fridge and icy cold, and breakfast was ready. I carried the glass and plate up the stairs, balancing the cutlery precariously on the plate. Steady, easy does it... and with my foot and hip, I worked my bedroom door open.

“ Good morning,” I said brightly, spying the tangle of limbs and sheets on my bed. An arm here, a leg there, twitching toes and all. I thought it was adorable, watching his toes stretch and wriggle. It was the only sign Jean was still alive, his breathing oddly quiet now. “I brought you breakfast in bed.”

He grunted as I nudged him. “Jean. Wake up, Jean.” 

“ I'm... I'm awake... stop... pestering me, mom.”

Oh. 

That was unexpected. 

I raised my eyebrows, looking down at him, “Don't get so comfortable with me as to call me your mom, Jean.” I scolded. That tone probably wouldn't help my cause in disillusioning him as to who I was, but it's all I had to work with.

“ A-Armin!” He sat up suddenly, the covers falling to pool around his waist. I gripped the plate a little tighter, feeling my hold waver at the sight so early in the morning. 

I’d really… with him...

“ That's more like it. Here. I figure you'd need to regain your strength.” I managed to say, holding out the plate of food.

His eyes went wide at the sight of it. Passing it to him, I clambered over his limbs and settled in next to him, laying down as he sat up to eat, propped against the headboard.

It was the perfect Sunday morning, I thought as I  watched him.

Jean was unconventionally attractive, I suppose. A little long in the face, albeit not enough to warrant the horse references that plagued him wherever he went, but he was not without an essence of masculine beauty. 

He was tall, long-limbed and not overly broad, walking with an air of confidence and his chin raised. He was proud to a fault, or maybe arrogant was more the right word. Like Eren, he had a habit of letting his mouth precede him, more often than not followed by throwing his fists around. 

At first, I wondered if his attitude, being so similar to my friend's, was what attracted me. I knew better than that now. He was nothing like Eren.

“ Thanks, Armin.” Jean said, licking his lips. “That was delicious.”

“ Good. But don't go calling me mom anytime soon or it won't happen again. And you won't be staying here any more if you do that, either.” I said.

Three hefty gulps of orange juice later, Jean looked over at me. “I didn't mean to do that, you know. My mom is always kicking me out of bed. I forgot where I was for a moment.”

“ You were out cold.” I mused.

“ I seem to recall having a busy night.” Jean set the plate on the side, rolling onto his side, hovering over me. I laughed up at him, blushing at the memory. “Or have you forgotten already?”

“ I haven't...” I kept the fact it was all I was able to think about while cooking to myself. I wasn’t bold enough - yet - to try talking like that.

I couldn't keep looking at him. In a move that, if done by anyone else, would be considered coquettish, I lowered my eyes, my lids falling like a curtain over my embarrassment.

“ I was going to refresh your memory. I suppose I don't need to.”

Jean's tone had my eyes darting open, my hand gripping his upper arm.

“N-No! You can... if you want to, that is.” My cheeks were burning up as I said it. I wasn't used to this kind of interaction, the attention, and last night itself was humiliating enough. Well, watching Jean trip and tumble whilst removing his pants was quite a sight, one detail I'd no doubt he would rather I forgot.

I was never going to. 

I was already chuckling when I noticed the sour look on his face.

“ Can you focus on something other than that?” he said. He was so cute when he pouted. I leaned up and placed a kiss upon his lips, and then another, lingering there as the heat lowered from my cheeks and down my body.

It was easy being pulled in. 

His arms wrapped around me, his body shifting until he settled on top, careful enough not to crush me beneath his weight.

“ Jean...” I panted when he brushed his hips over mine. I could feel how hard he was already, and found myself to be the same. I responded in kind, lifting my hips to meet his, blushing as he gasped, just catching the moan in his throat.

“ You're wearing my shirt.”

“ You're not using it.” I retorted.

“ True.”

“ Should I... take it off?”

He considered for a moment. “Mhm, no. Keep it on.”

“ But won't it...ah... get dirty?” My back was arching off the bed, eager to meet his palm as it sneaked beneath the hem of the shirt, dragging it slowly up my body to expose my nipples. “...Nhn...!” My hand flew over my mouth, muffling the pleasured moan as Jean's tongue flicked playfully over my left nipple. 

My body was erupting with the sensation, the tingling sensation focusing in my hips, and I pushed them up desperately seeking contact there. Jean evaded me cruelly, using his arms to pin mine down, controlling how much pleasure I was to be administered, forcing me to shut my lips to muffle my cries.

This was different from last night. Last night was slow and passionate, a gentle exploration of each other, a show of our dedication to one another. Now, now was plain lust. I was burning up as Jean tortured my nipples, first the left and then the right, dragging his tongue across the expanse between them.

“ J-Jean...!”

“ Shh.” His breath fell hotly on my wet chest as he spoke, teasing me and sending a shiver of delight through me. I was beginning to wonder if Jean was more experienced in this field than I was at first lead to believe, but the thought soon derailed as his hips began sweeping against mine, driving me delirious with the friction.

“ T-Take... these off...” I whined, referring to his underwear. I wanted to feel him on me, directly, without his cotton boxers between us. I was trying to inch them off with my thighs without much success.  “ Your body doesn't... hurt?”

“ Ah... I'm good.” I said, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity of his question. He let go of my wrists, and while he removed his boxers, I fished a fresh condom out the top drawer of my bedside unit.

“ Heh, how many of those things did you get?”

“ ...Enough...” I murmured, not meeting his gaze. I was too embarrassed. 

This was all so new and exciting and incredibly embarrassing. Mortifying when I came face to face with his member, jutting proudly from his hips. It was too dark for me to see last night. Now it was far too bright in here and I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I mean, it felt big... but... did it really…

I squeaked, covering my face, throwing the condom onto the mattress between us.

“ A-Armin...! Are you alright?”

“ I-I'm fine!” I wasn't fine. I wasn't fine at all. It was a wonder I could walk at all today. “It's... I...”

“ What is it, Armin?”

“ ...Don't make me say it.”

He peeled my hands away from my face, trailed kisses along my jawline until he met my lips, and reluctantly I gave in to him. My eyes were clenched tightly shut as he pried my lips apart, sliding his tongue inside and entwining it with mine.

It was too easy to lose myself in him. His kiss was sweet but persistent, a hint of his desire lying behind it, effectively stoking my own need for him and erasing the crushing humiliation.

I parted from our kiss with panting breaths, looking through a haze up at him as he laid me back down. “It's alright, Armin. I'll take it slow.”

I nodded shyly, nuzzling at his face with my nose, meeting his lips in a slow kiss. It soon turned heated, my moans leaking into his mouth as his fingers found their way into me, slick with the lube. He must have prepared them with it when I was freaking out.

My body accepted the first finger, eased into me steadily and gradually working wider circles until the second finger could join the first. I broke from our kiss at that, turning my head to the side as the sensation struck me. It was odd and a little uncomfortable, and as I struggled to adjust to it again, Jean flittered kisses along the length of my neck.

“ ...Jean...” I panted as he worked his fingers in and out of me, picking up speed as my reactions slowly changed for the better. It didn't take long for me to push for the next stage.

I was surprising myself, if I'm honest. I didn't think I would be so needy, so hungry for him, so open about it. When dancing on the edges, I was an embarrassed mess, unable to meet his eyes and blushing wildly. Yet as soon as I was driven into a corner like this, fevered passion burning in my veins, all I could think about was the cure.

He covered my mouth with his, devouring the cry I gave as he entered me. I tried not to think about his size as he pushed his hips forward, sinking his member entirely into me. I took him all, breathing unsteadily as his hips nestled against mine.

“ Armin... are you okay?”

I nodded, tangling my fingers in his hair, anchoring me to him. “M-Mhm... not too fast, okay?” I whispered, unable to command my voice any more than that.

I prayed my grandfather wouldn't come home to hear the creak of my old mattress, or the dull thud of the headboard on the wall. Our pace started slow, melting into the intense embrace I was lost in now, rattling my bed to the extent I partly feared it may break under the exertion.

“ J-Jean...ah...!” I covered my mouth with my palm, dampening my cries as they fell freely from me. I couldn't keep quiet, no matter how hard I tried, my moans rising as Jean wrapped his hand around me, stroking me, bringing me to new heights as he worked his hand in tandem with his hips. 

The sensations were too much to handle, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes to be kissed away by his tender lips. 

I clung to him desperately as I reached my climax, holding him flush against my body as it trembled, feeling him finish shortly thereafter with a low grunt.

“ That... I could get used to starting my mornings like that.” He said, laughing breathlessly, kissing my lips lazily.

“ That would be fine by me.”

We fell back asleep, wrapped in the comfort of each other and not a care in the world. That was, for now at least.

 

* * *

 

 

I couldn't shift my thoughts from Eren entirely, no matter how hard I tried to immerse myself in Jean. After dinner, he went up to my room to play video games while I excused myself to take a call. It was Mikasa.

“ Hey, Mikasa. How're things?” I said as cheerily as I could. If she was calling me, things couldn't be good.

“ Armin... I'm sorry to call you like this. I hope I'm not disturbing you?”

“ It's fine, really. Jean's upstairs breaking my controller, probably.”

“ It's Eren.” I could hear her sigh, the breath crackling down the line. “He's sulking about something. He won't talk to me about it, of course.”

“ He's not been speaking to me much, either.” I admitted. So Mikasa was noticing it at home, too.

“ There's something else, too. I knew we couldn’t afford to keep the house. I asked him to move back with me. He refused.  He's convinced himself he can pay for the mortgage, Armin. When I asked him to move back with me, he brought out this tin, filled with dollar bills. He tried to pass it off as money saved from his job, but...”

“ It's not adding up.” I finished for her. The implication that Eren may one day leave dawned on me slowly, overshadowed by the alarming news of his decision to stay. My mind raced ahead, working out the best possible hourly wage Eren could be earning - not even close to meeting the demands of a mortgage. How, then…?

“ No. It isn't. The envelopes on top had $500 in them each. It's crazy, it doesn't make any sense at all.”

My calculations ground to a halt.  “Are you serious?” 

What the hell was he playing at? Though I had decided not to pry into Eren’s business, it was apparent I may not have a choice about that after all.

It was my turn to sigh, my body leaning on the counter in the kitchen. With my free hand I rubbed at my eyes, as if it would erase the concern from them. Today wasn't supposed to be “worry about Eren” day. It was meant to be about me and Jean. 

Not that it was Mikasa's fault. 

This was brewing for some time, and by now it was clear that it was serious.

Mikasa spoke quietly. “What should we do?”

“ I don't know.” I answered honestly. “It might have something to do with Hange, now I think about it.”

“ Hange?” Mikasa asked.

“ Yeah. You don't... you don't know about Hange, do you? Oh, no. Mikasa please, if he hasn't told you, you have to act like I didn't say anything or he'll kill me!” 

How had he not told her? Wasn’t he close to Mikasa?

“ Calm down, Armin. I won't mention it. Tell me who Hange is?”

“ I think Hange is his girlfriend... It would explain where he's been going, but not the money. Maybe she gives it to him?”

“ Girlfriend...?”

“ M-Mhm. I only found out by accident! He didn't exactly tell me about her either.” I said, as if that would make it better. “Maybe she didn’t want him to go? Or… something.” I was clutching at straws. Something was definitely amiss here. 

“ I see. Thank you for telling me that much. I promise not to mention it to him, but in the meantime, please help me find out where this money is coming from.”

“ I'll think it over and get back to you.” I promised.

“ Thanks, Armin.”

The call ended. I stood holding my phone, chewing on my lip, chewing on my thoughts. I knew she wouldn't let the Hange thing slip like I had. The last thing we wanted to do was drive Eren farther from us.

“ Everything okay?” Jean asked, briefly glancing from the monitor. As I suspected he was frantically mashing the buttons of the controller.

“ I'm worried about Eren.” I said heavily, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Mikasa called, and she's worried, too.”

He carried on his playing. “Mikasa? What the hell has he done to worry you both?”

“ He hasn’t been himself for a long time now and it's only getting worse. These past few weeks he's barely said a word to me.”

“ He's always been weird. I know he's been through a lot but fucking hell. He needs to pull his head out of his ass.”

I sighed, rubbing at my temples. Jean was probably not the most suitable candidate to discuss Eren but it seemed he at least was trying to be supportive. In his own special way.

“ While that is undeniably true, it’s not quite that simple. Something isn’t right with him. He won’t tell anyone what it is, which makes it only more suspicious.”

“He has a girlfriend. An _ older _ girlfriend. How do you know she’s not the answer to it all?”

I watched Jean's character gun down a couple of opponents in overly gory detail. I don't know why he liked such violent games. I guess I should be grateful he was only interested in virtually massacring people. He didn't look like was winning.

“ I guess.” I looked down at my hands, lacing my fingers together, lost in thought.  What are you hiding, Eren? Why can’t you tell me? In the very least, why aren’t you telling Mikasa?

I had too many questions and as always, too few answers. 

“If it’s worrying you that much… then we’ll find a way to deal with it. I still think he’s being shy; he hasn’t  dated anyone that you know of, this chick is his first, right? He probably doesn’t know how to handle it. Or her.”

I scrunched my nose up as Jean stole a glance at me, if only to wriggle his brows suggestively. He chuckled, his attention back on the screen and the mashing of buttons. With a grunt of frustration he put the controller down, the words GAME OVER flashing in red on the screen.

“Damnit,” He cussed, turning the console off. He sat back down next to me, his large hands lifting up to cup my cheeks. He tilted my head slightly, and then he kissed me. 

In that moment I felt my concerns dissipate. It was me and Jean, and no one else.

His kiss was tender and left me a little hungry for more, though he was not offering seconds - or technically, thirds. 

“ I know you're worried about him, Armin. He's lucky to have you and he's too stupid to see it. But I don't want to see you twist yourself up worrying over nothing. He lost his dad not too long ago, that's going to mess anyone up. At least he's not getting into fights like he used to.”

“ I see what you're saying...” I edged.

He pressed another kiss to my protesting lips. “Armin. Take a step back to think about it logically – you know, like you always do. Mindlessly fretting doesn't suit you. When you think clearly, you'll see the answer.”

“ You're right.” I nodded as Jean took my hand and entwined our fingers, giving me a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “What do you wanna do now?” I said, trying to change the subject. 

I knew they didn't get along and listening to me prattle on about Eren probably wasn't helping the mood. 

I wanted to keep the essence of last night alive, not ruin it with this.

“ It's getting kind of late,” Jean checked his phone, his tone sulky, “I have some assignments left to do. You know, ones I meant to spend my evening doing yesterday.” He shot me a look.

“ Ah, but you had more pressing matters. Right?” I teased, shyly turning away. I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

“ I'm not sure my teachers would appreciate the excuse, even if it's one they might not have heard before.”

I punched his arm playfully, dragging out my sentence like a petulant child. “Fine! If you insist.”

“ I don't, but,” He kissed me, quickly, not letting himself get drawn into a moment with me. We both knew he wouldn't leave if that happened. “Needs must and all that shit. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

Jean packed up his things and with a quick kiss to my cheek, he was gone. My skin tingled from the touch of his lips.

My room felt empty without him in it. 

Everything carried his scent, I soon discovered, as I flopped down on my bed. My sheets, on my pillow, even the shirt I wore harbored his scent. It was musky and masculine and I wasn't able to get enough of it. 

I lay there, my nose buried in my bed, eyes closed as I relived the things we'd done together. It was... so different from touching myself, something that I rarely did as it was, the sensation of another's hand on your skin tantalizing, addictive even. 

It was going to be a long night without him there to hold me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thank you so much for coming back and reading another chapter of my fic. It means the absolute world to me every single time. If you made it this far, I salute you.
> 
> If you enjoyed it please leave a comment or consider a kudos. Or both! I don't mind. Every single notification goes a long way to keeping me going, and it leaves me giddy inside for days. 
> 
> If you have any critiques or absolutely anything to say, please do so. 
> 
> And finally, I'll hopefully see you in next week's instalment!


	14. In Silence We Yearn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loyal, lovely readers!
> 
> Just a heads up: fic will be most likely updated on Fridays going forward. This suits my editor's schedule better. Thank you for your understanding.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. 
> 
> As always, please let me know your thoughts in the comments.

“ Hey! Eren. So, uh, about the homework...” Connie waggled his brows at me. He leaned on my desk, sitting backwards in his own chair as he spoke to me.

I looked at him, bored with the usual routine. It was the same every English class.

I pulled my books out of my bag and threw them onto my desk, missing his tender fingers by inches. “Here. I haven’t  studied, though, so don't cry to me if the answers are all wrong.” I indicated the books nonchalantly.

“ Ah!  You're the best, man! Yo, Sasha, I got it!” Connie whirled round, branding my books like a trophy.

“ Score!” Sasha raised her arms in the air, cheering loudly as the pair hunched over my answers like vultures. 

I'd only finished it myself last night, and that was only under duress from Mikasa. She was holding my pizza hostage, threatening to eat a slice for every ten minutes I refused to do it. How she found out I even had homework I wasn't entirely sure, though I strongly suspected Armin was involved, from the sheepish look on his face as he picked me up this morning. 

He dodged my questions about how his weekend had gone, and I'd never seen the boy more crimson than when I asked about Jean.

He looked sunburnt. Bless. From that I could only assume it was a good weekend – at least one of us was enjoying themselves.

Connie and Sasha returned my homework seconds before the class started. They were cutting it close as usual. A moment later and the pair of them would have found themselves in detention together, not that it would deter them from their habitual slacking. 

Who was I to judge? 

I was hardly in a position to criticize. As I told them, I didn’t study either. The homework I produced was guess work at best. If the teacher caught on, the three of us would be sitting here after school together. And I wouldn’t have been able to care less with that outcome. 

It was probably obvious by this point that I was struggling to care for anything at all. 

It was a little weird, coming back to school. At first the teachers and students tiptoed around me, nervous of how to treat me in the face of my family circumstances - or lack thereof, to be painfully accurate. I was dealing with my grief in my own way, privately. 

The issue with school, now more than ever, was how pointless I felt it to be. It meant little to me a few months ago, it meant even less to me today. 

It just wasn’t worth the hassle from Mikasa and Armin for me to give up entirely. I could get by on the minimal effort; I wasn’t dumb, I could get C grades with little trouble. That was a pass, and that was plenty.

In all honesty, my mind wasn’t able to focus at all. Not on deciphering complicated passages of books with language so backwards it was practically foreign, nor for working out how numbers interacted to find an answer. Even less for reciting dates and facts of days gone by, and don’t get me started on chemicals and plants. 

So long as I was young and able-bodied, I’d work for Hange, and the last time I checked I didn’t need a degree to lay back and spread my legs.

The rest I would work out later, when I came to it.

There were more pressing matters to deal with. Such as the Corporal - he was ignoring me. I was sure of it. No matter how many times I asked, Hange always replied the same. 

_ “Haven’t heard from him, sweetie.”  _

I sighed, tapping my pen on my empty notebook.  _ If only my mind could be as clear as the page in front of me _ , I thought bitterly. I guess it was time to cut my losses and move on. 

Win some, lose some.

God damnit, I  _ hated _  losing.

 

* * *

 

After English class finished, I met up with Armin in the cafeteria, noting the absence of his boyfriend for the first time since they got together. I mentioned it once we were seated, throwing it out there as casually as I could. “Just us two today, then?”

He nodded. “I thought it would be nice to catch up with you a bit. I haven't seen you much recently. Not since after...”

“ It's okay Armin. You can say it. The funeral.”

He smiled apologetically. “I didn't mean to...”

“ I know. No one does. I'm not made of glass, Armin. I'm not going to break because someone mentioned it.” I unwrapped the sandwich I'd made, stuffed it into my mouth and chewed.

“ How are things with Hange?” He asked, tactfully changing the subject.

To something probably much worse. 

I really needed to tell him we weren't dating. I was fed up of lying about it, fed up of how it kept coming back up in conversations. Not today. Maybe I'd do it tomorrow. “Good, I guess. You and Jean seem to be going steady. It's been what... two months?”

“ Three, actually.” He looked down, and there upon his cheeks were the traces of a blush. He was hiding something from me. I bet I knew what it was, too.

“ You fucked him yet?” I asked bluntly. Worth it to see him choke on his drink and splutter. He made no attempt to deny it. “You have!”

“ Keep your voice down!” He hushed me, checking over his shoulders as if he was worried someone would overhear. “...I never said that.”

“ You didn't need to. Your cheeks say it all. So, how was it? Was it good?”

“ E-Eren!”

“ Come on, Armin. We're all guys here. Don't be shy.” Oh, this was much more fun than talking about Hange or funerals. I sipped my soda, leaning forward, searching out his gaze – he adamantly kept his eyes from mine, and that served only to make me seek his out more. He eventually gave in, stealing a peek. He flushed more. So cute.

“ It was... good.” He said quietly, covering his face. “Eren, please don't look at me like that. And stop wriggling your brows! Did you just wink? Eren!”

I laughed. Too easy. “Alright, alright. I'll behave. Only if you tell me everything.”

“ You really don't want that.”

“ I do. Trust me, I do. Come on.” I slapped the table with my hand. “Lay down the details.”

“ We're in the middle of school!”

“And if you think every other one of these bastards hasn't been doing it for years, you're sorely mistaken. Believe me, there's nothing you've done that they haven't.” By they, I meant me, of course.

“ You haven’t been doing it for years,” he fired back, not knowing how deeply those words would sink into me.

Damn, smart mouthed bastard. I did my best to shrug it off, hoping he’d take my reaction as bruised pride opposed to the hidden truth. “That’s not the point. We’re talking about you.”

“Why can’t it be both of us? If I’m going to tell you, I want to know about you. Have you and Hange…?”

The thought of doing anything with Hange was, first and foremost, terrifying.  Regardless of what I wanted, my mind flashed through several choice scenarios, ranging from strap-on dildos the length of my arm and width of my thigh, to whips and chains. 

No, that was all too tame for Hange. I bet they ate virgins for breakfast (both figuratively and literally). 

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of becoming their sexual experiment. A fate worse than death.

My wayward imaginings aside, Armin was waiting for my answer, which meant I had to come up with something. What do I tell him?

I'd never slept with a girl. Could I bluff my way through it? I wasn't sure. It depends on how much information he wanted out of me; too much, and he'd know I was lying. If I tried to be vague, he'd know I was lying. Basically, he'd know I was lying.

“ You... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to...” He conceded, and I realized I'd taken too long to respond. I had to throw  _ something  _ out there.

“ It's... complicated. With Hange, it's complicated.” Great sentence there, Eren. I put my head in my hands, running my fingers through my hair, messing it up. It was always a degree of messy and just like my life choices, I was only making it worse.

I was taking a gamble with Armin; I felt racked with guilt for not confiding anything in him, for the way he blindly trusted me with what had to be his biggest secret. That's why I took a hit. “Hange... isn't my girlfriend.”

“ Oh.”

“ Not exactly. It's...”

“ Complicated.”

“ ...Hange... isn't… a girl.” I wasn’t sure they slotted into the boy category instead. A little of both and not a whole lot of either. I’d long since given up trying to figure it out, if it needed figuring out at all. 

Hange was… Hange.

“ _ Oh. _ ”

I stole a glance up, unsure what I would see. Would he understand me?

“Armin?”

“...Eren...” Armin said my name slowly, his face cast in seriousness. I swallowed hard. “Are you... are you telling me what I think you are?”

“ M-Maybe?” Now I was the one blushing, watching as the mechanisms in Armin's head calculated the numbers, spitting out the only plausible answer. Half of me prayed he wouldn't get it. The other half prayed he'd work the whole shit out, and save me the hassle of hiding behind a fabrication any longer.

“ I... I see.”

I could tell there was a barrage of questions he wanted to ask, unable to pick one individual line of questioning when several other threads tempted his tongue. He was like a kid in a candy shop.

He smiled then, as brilliantly as summer’s day. “I’m so happy for you! I never thought you’d turn out to be… well, you know.”

He was killing me. 

The pure innocence that radiated from him - I felt bad standing so near, my own tainted soul a shadow in his blinding light.

Or something like that. 

After he came out to me, I never expected a fanfare over my own admittance. Armin was logical and rarely ruled by his heart, the complete opposite of me. It would be hypocritical of him to turn against me for my own sexuality, yet something seemed to itch at his mind about it.

“You never seemed interested in anyone before.” He mumbled, looking away. Then, in a flash, whatever plagued him was gone. He turned to me, smiling brilliantly, the clouds chased from his expression. “I’m really happy for you, Eren.”

“...Thanks.” I looked down at my food, playing with the crusts I didn’t want to eat. I couldn’t help feeling I’d created a bigger mess for myself, one I ought to clean up sooner rather than later. Before I could make it any worse, I angled the topic back to him.

“That’s enough about me. What about you and Jean, then?”

“...We really shouldn’t talk about that here.”

“You’re not getting out of it. Come to my place after school, we’ll catch up there.”

He thought over my offer for a few seconds, then nodded, a noticeable blush coloring his cheeks. “Alright. I’ll pick you up and drive straight there.”

The bell rang, bringing our lunchtime chat to a grinding halt.

“Armin. Don’t say a word of this to Jean.”

“I promise.” 

The final leg of the day was history for me. I said my goodbyes to Armin and headed off, still plagued by the thoughts of what Hange got up to in their bedroom. 

I shared history with Krista. Small, dainty and elegant, she carried herself with an air of dignity and grace, much unlike Ymir. Ymir was lanky, outspoken and aggressive. I guess opposites really do attract. Ymir certainly had a task ahead of her with all the competition for Krista’s affections; unbeknownst to her, Krista had the uncanny skill of enrapturing the men and women around her. Even Reiner was known to have sworn to marry her. Personally, she didn’t do it for me. 

I dropped my bag down at my desk and slid into my seat, trying hard to get into the frame of mind to learn something, though my thoughts were drifting away with me. I wondered, with all the talk of relationships, if it would ever be a possibility for me.

How would I even go about finding someone? 

A depressing thought, made worse when I considered those in my peer group. None of them piqued my interest, not a single one. On the off chance that I did meet someone, how do I tell them about myself? 

_ Hi, my name is Eren and I sleep around for cash. Oh, is that your father? Yeah, he’s a regular. Awkward! _

Something told me that wouldn’t go down too well.

“Hey, Eren.” Krista chimed as she took the empty seat next to me. 

“Hey.” I returned her smile as best I could manage. 

As the teacher came into the classroom, I made a conscious effort to ban the nonsense of relationships and love from my head, and instead fill it with facts and figures from our country’s past. A novel cause that lasted all of five minutes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mikasa!” I bellowed as soon as I stepped into the house. “Mikasa! Are you home?” 

No answer. “Huh? She must’ve gone out…” I gestured for Armin to come in, closing the door behind him and slipping my shoes off. “You hungry?”

“We only ate lunch a short while ago.” 

“Doesn’t learning make you hungry? I guess that’s just me. I’m gonna grab some snacks if you wanna go straight up to my room.”

“Sure.” 

Armin headed up the stairs as I made a beeline for the kitchen, guided as ever by my rumbling stomach. 

The great thing about Mikasa being here was the luxury of knowing that there would be food in the cupboards whenever I went to them. Living alone, it could be very hit and miss. 

In fact, I swear I was getting tubbier as a result of her constant food shopping. 

Ignoring that thought, I grabbed a couple bags of chips and some soda, carefully carrying the prized loot up to my room. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I placed the goods down on the floor beside Armin. “This should see us through until dinner. I’m gonna order us pizza.”

Armin looked over the junk food, saying nothing about it. “Thanks for inviting me over.” 

“You said it yourself, we haven’t really seen each other for awhile.”

“It’s been even longer since I came to your house. I’m surprised nothing changed. You’re still living in a mess.” He laughed, eyes roaming over the various piles of clutter.

I passed him a can of soda, taking one for myself. “It’s an organized mess.”

“I think the actual phrase is ‘organized chaos’. But that would imply a level of organization - do you even know where anything is in here?”

Swallowing a mouthful of cola, I answered indignantly. “Of course I do. Clean clothes are over there-”

“That huge pile?”

“Yeah. That’s the dirty clothes.” I pointed to another pile of clothes, identical to the first. “Look, I didn’t invite you over to inspect my cleanliness. We’re here to talk about Jeany-boy.”

“Jeany… Eren, please.” Armin shook his head at the nickname, apparently displeased with it.

“As much as I am grossed out by him, you’re my friend and I want to know. Was he gentle?”

“E-Eren, you really don’t have to ask these things…” 

“If he hurt you at all, I will punch him.”

“He didn’t! He didn’t hurt me. If you must know, then yes. He was very… considerate.” Armin lowered his face into his hands, speaking through them, his voice muffled. 

“So you two did do it then.”

“Y-yes.”

I reached for a bag of chips. “Did he use protection?”

Armin nodded, still hiding his face. 

“Good, I won’t have to remove parts of him.” I opened the bag and shovelled a decent handful of the lightly salted chips into my mouth. 

“It wasn’t at all… what I expected.”

“It’s an odd sensation.”

Not realising what I’d said until Armin peeked through his fingers, I hastily backtracked. “Ah… I mean, I  _ imagine _ it’s an odd sensation.”

“Not unpleasant. Just… different. I liked it.” He paused, “Thank you, Eren.”

“For what?”

He lowered his hands from his face, his expression earnest, if a little flushed still. “For talking about this with me. I know you don’t like Jean all that much, so it can’t be easy to listen to me. As your friend, however, I’m grateful.”

I stopped crinkling the chip bag then, my hand buried deep. I didn’t know what to say to him. He spoke honestly, and from the heart. 

Something I loved about him.

“Ah…  I’m  _ your _ friend, Armin. This stuff matters. I’m kind of proud of you for taking that step. Regardless of the fact it’s Jean, of all people. I can’t be anything but happy for you.” Damn, that was mushy.

“Thanks.” Armin replied.

“Right. Well. Let’s play some video games for a bit, yeah?” I suggested, wiping my hand unceremoniously on my jeans, digging out a controller and passing it over to him.

We played for a few hours until Mikasa came home, a fresh round of groceries waiting in the trunk of her car. We helped her bring them in.

“I’m ordering us pizza for dinner if you want in.” I said to her when we were done. The three of us were in the living room, chilling out on the couch. It felt good, seeing the three of us together in this house. Just like old times, when we camped out in front of the television, permitted to stay up later so we could watch our favorite weekend shows. Remembering that, I realized how starkly different our lives were now. Mine, at least. 

Though Mikasa had taken to nagging me about my nocturnal activities and worrying over my proposal to pay the mortgage alongside my studies (everything, in short), I was enjoying spending this time together. 

I could barely hear their voices from the living room as I moved into the kitchen to order our food. I couldn't make out what they said, only the thrum of their voices coming to me like foggy memories. Hearing them both chatter was comforting. For too long this house was silent with only me rattling around it. I guess it was true, that  in the wake of my father's passing I realized how lonely I was. 

Every passing day that Mikasa kept the cupboards full, or filled the bathroom with her scented soaps, or left the TV on and fell asleep in front of it, was a gentle reminder of someone else’s presence. I was really going to miss her when she left.

Order placed, I joined them in the living room.

“What were you two talking about?” I asked, throwing my body into the nearest chair. 

“Just catching up.” Mikasa said, not missing a beat. 

My eyes darted between them, the feeling I was missing something important settling over me. Shaking it off, I decided not to venture further. Maybe Armin was revealing his exploits to her - a conversation I didn’t want to go over so close to dinner.

“Did you order for me, too?” Mikasa asked.

“The guy said they were out of pineapple.” 

“You liar.” Mikasa scowled, not  believing me for a second. 

“It’s an abomination, Mikasa.” I fired back. “A disgrace to pizza eaters everywhere.”

“It’s a common topping. Stop being such a child about it.”

I stuck  my tongue out, and earned myself a cushion to the face for the effort. 

Not long after that, the doorbell rang and dinner was served.

“I am stuffed.” I declared, putting down the remains of the slice I had been valiantly trying to finish. I was defeated by a slice of pizza. Not even the last slice of pepperoni was going to fit in my stomach. Didn’t stop me from wanting  it.  “Are you guys done?”

Mikasa and Armin nodded in unison.

I cleared the left overs into the fridge for later, promising my own slice I'd be back for it soon.

Mikasa had studies to do, so me and Armin left her in peace and retired to my room for more video games.

“Hey, you wanna sleep over?” I asked over my shoulder. 

Armin had taken up residence on my bed, his legs beside my shoulder as I sat on the floor, back propped up on the bed. We’d been playing several rounds of a classic beat ‘em up, which Armin was proving a worthy opponent. I was one round ahead of him, otherwise our scores were equal.

“I don’t have a sleeping  bag or anything with me.”

“You don’t live far. We can go get it in no time. Only if you want to.”

“Sure. I’d really like that.”

“That’s decided then. You know, it’s  been really nice having you and Mikasa around.”

“It’s been a lot of fun tonight.” Armin agreed. Our conversation stopped then, the sound of frantic button mashing filling in the space instead.

I lost.

“Another?”

“Sure - Ah, one sec. My phone’s ringing.” I put the controller down, grabbing my phone off the bedside cabinet. It was Hange.

“I’ll be back in a sec.” I shot Armin an apologetic look and darted out the room, closing the door behind me. “What is it?”

“I have an appointment for you for next Wednesday, if you’re interested? He’s asked for you.”

My heart skipped a beat. Wednesday. Asked for me.

Could it be…? 

After all this time, the Corporal finally wanted to see me!?

“R-Really?” I said, trying hard to keep the excitement from my voice and failing. “Who is it?”

“A new guy. I don’t think you’ve seen him before though he was very keen to see you!”

“Oh.” Not the Corporal. I felt my heart drop through me to the floor, filled with the dead weight of my feelings of excitement. “Sure, book him in.”

“Excellent! … Eren, I’m sorry. Don’t take it personally; some guys just move on. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s how the business goes.”

“Thanks, Hange. I’ll bear that in mind.” 

“I’ll text you the details later.” Hange ended the call then, and I lingered out in the hallway, taking the time to compose myself. The disappointment left a bitter taste in my mouth, one that would be hard to wash out.

Slapping a carefree expression on my face I bounced back into my bedroom. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t mention it.” Armin smiled, though I could see the curiosity burning in his eyes.

Taking up the controller I decided to eliminate my feelings in the ring, by beating Armin’s fighter of choice into fresh pulp. That would make me feel better.

It didn’t.

 

* * *

I lay listening to Armin’s steady breathing, staring through the darkness at the ceiling. 

I couldn’t sleep. For how long I’d been trying was hard to say, but it felt like an eternity. I’d tried laying this way and that, to no avail. What was plaguing my mind so?

The Corporal, of course.

Sighing for the umpteenth time into my pillow, I realized I wasn't going to sleep easily tonight. Carefully stepping over Armin, I made my way into the bathroom. Locking the door, I put the lid of the toilet down and seated myself, inching my pajama bottoms just low enough to avoid messing them up. 

I hooked my shirt in my mouth, which soon became covered in my saliva, and worked out my tension in the only way I knew how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to see you all next week! Thank you so much for reading!


	15. Second Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> This chapter went through many revisions, right until the last. Hopefully you enjoy it.
> 
> As always, your comments keep me going. Thank you so, so much to everyone who takes time to leave feedback. Without you all, I may have given up a long time ago. 
> 
> Thank you.

Mr. Shadis loomed over me, his shrunken eyes terrifyingly small, fixed on me like a hawk. I was but a mouse in his enclosing claws. He didn’t look like he was enjoying himself, unlike most teachers. He looked frustrated, maybe even disappointed.

“I... I don't have it.” I said in response to his question. Another day without my homework. How many was that now? It was becoming all too frequent that I’d given up on even producing an excuse. I was scraping the barrel last time when I told him my dog ate it (I don’t own a dog, everyone knows that). 

To my surprise, Mr. Shadis sighed. No raised voice, no barrage of abuse. Nothing beyond an expulsion of air.I guess he had given up, too. I was a lost cause.

Mr. Shadis moved onto the next student, wasting no further time with me. Reiner took the chance to  turn in his seat.

“Hey, man. What's up with you?” He spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw Shadis’ attention.

“Nothing… I’m fine.” I may have come across a little defensive, judging by the look Reiner shot me. That, or he completely saw through my lie. 

I was, after all, anything but fine.

Days turned into weeks, and still I heard nothing from the Corporal. The clients came thick and fast (so to speak), but none of them were him. In truth, I was losing hope of ever seeing him again, and with it went my motivation to do anything. I couldn’t stand the silence, the not knowing exactly where I stood.

“That's the third piece you've missed. Thought you'd gotten your shit together.” Reiner continued, watching me carefully as I doodled on the sheet of paper in front of me - probably the only thing that I’d be writing today. 

I was gripping the pen tightly, too tightly, growing steadily angrier by his words. I hadn’t realized my classmates were stepping into the now vacant parent role for me. How nice of them. 

Thankfully, he said nothing more, as Mr. Shadis returned to the front, his collection of homework complete. He bellowed out his lesson loud enough my ears would bleed, but I was still deaf to it all. No matter how much he shouted, I simply couldn’t be bothered to listen. 

I was elsewhere, far from the confines of this classroom. I was fixated on the mess I’d made with the Corporal’s dong.

There was nothing I could do about it. 

I had no say in the matter; Hange would text me if he wanted to see me, and until such a time, I had no choice but to wait.  _ If _ he ever wanted to see me again. 

That’s what pissed me off so much about it. This whole situation was out of my hands. The lack of control I could exert over it frustrated me. When I was frustrated, I got angry.

To make matters yet worse still, my classmates - and teachers - cast sympathetic gazes at me, assuming I was grieving the loss of my father. It gave me some leeway, I suppose, in my behavior, though it resulted in only making me feel worse. The real cause was some guy I barely knew. I was… a terrible person.

And so the cycle perpetuated. 

Mr. Shadis’ lesson droned on. Reiner took notes. The page in front of me remained blank, save for the doodle I did earlier. 

_ Corporal. _

If there was some way I could get to see him, one last time. If I could speak to him, apologize, or  _ something _ , _ anything _ . I wasn’t ready to give up on him. Not that I had a say in it. What I wanted mattered for nought. This line of business wasn’t made to cater to  _ my _ needs. 

Never before did that bother me. It bothered me now, a lot, and I only had myself to blame.

There was nothing I could do. I had to let him go, and yet, even as I thought it, my heart lurched in defiance. It leapt so fiercely in the other direction I was momentarily breathless, clutching a hand to my chest as if to keep it from bursting forth. Was the notion of letting him go that painful to me?

It was probably my ego that was bruised. He was an attractive guy - I guess some part of me wanted him to desire me in return.  _ Damn, I’m pathetic. _

I slouched back in my seat, my pen tracing idle lines across the page, my mind filling with self-hatred. It didn’t get far.

“Mr. Yeager, do you care to answer the question?” Mr. Shadis' unpleasant bellow interrupted my brooding, startling me back to the lesson I was supposed to be learning.

My ass clenched tight enough to crack a man's skull. 

“Uhm… What was the question?”

Good job, Yeager.    
  


* * *

 

 

My ass was still sore from the roasting Shadis dished out as I got into the car with Armin, another day finally over with. I'd only been chewed out by, oh,   _ all _ of my teachers by the time it was over. I must have looked a state, more than usual, as Armin avoided asking how I was. That bad.

No. This wasn’t about me.

He was fidgeting in his seat, fingers twitching on the steering wheel, eyes wide and brows knotted. Something else was on his mind.  Something huge. Something so big it was blotting all else out from the great expanse that was his mind. A frightening prospect faced me.

I waited patiently for him to pluck up the courage. 

“Eren.” Armin started. Finally. I prepared myself for the worst. By now we were outside my house, freedom mere meters away.

“What's up?” I replied casually.

“...How are things?”

“They're good?” Not what I was expecting. Maybe he was hedging, beating about the bush. He’d drop the big question soon enough.

“Reiner told me about English class.”

“Did he?”

“And Connie mentioned Math.”

My mouth twitched. So this  _ was _ about me after all. Was there anyone left who hadn’t signed up for Parenting Eren?

“Did something happen? I mean, are you coping alright? There have been a lot of big changes in your life recently.” Armin probed delicately. His voice trailed upwards, reaching heights I never thought possible for a man after puberty. Armin was a late developer, apparently.

“Everything is fine.” I tried to keep my mouth from tensing too much, “I appreciate everyone looking out for me, but it’s not necessary. So I missed some homework, big deal.”

Armin twisted the key in the ignition, killing the engine. He then shuffled in his seat, his bright eyes fixed on mine. I held my breath.

“Did Hange break up with you?”

“Wh- _ what _ ?” And released it in an exasperated puff. 

“I mean... You haven’t  been yourself and… I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.” Armin was backing up fast, reading the expression on my face no doubt putting him off carrying on that line of inquiry. 

I unbuckled my seatbelt, battling the nausea in my stomach as I fought to find an answer for him. I’d dragged the pretense of me and Hange on for some time now, yet I couldn’t bring myself to dispel the lie and tell the truth. 

Saying we had broken up would be a decent get-out clause, if covering a lie with another one was ever a good idea. It was never a good idea. Instead, I was opting for a half-truth of sorts.

“Armin… can I ask you an entirely hypothetical question?” I ventured. 

“Uhm… sure.”

“What would you do if… you upset someone, and you wanted to apologize to them, but you weren’t meant to… contact them?”

“Eren? What is this about?”

“It’s  _ hypothetical _ , Armin.” I reiterated. 

His brows furrowed as he thought about it. “Well, it’s hard to say exactly with so little to go on. Depends how bad the discrepancy against them is-”

“It’s bad.”

“In which case, I would  _ hypothetically _ contact them. They may not want to see me but everyone deserves the chance to be forgiven. If they won’t accept, I wouldn’t go against it. You should at least try once to make amends.”

“You really think so?”

“Mhm.” Armin nodded. “You run the risk of upsetting them more, be warned. You also stand the chance of rectifying it.”

My mind was racing a thousand paths a second, pausing briefly to slap my stupid face for being so stupid.

That was the answer to the problem. It was so wonderfully simple only a genius could come up with it. 

Waiting for  _ him _ to come to  _ me _ was pointless. He was too stubborn to be the first to break. 

I'd been an idiot, letting so much time pass between us! I didn't know much about the Corporal, but some of his behaviors clued me into parts of his personality. If I had gleaned anything, it was his need for reliability. Not being late, following his orders exactly, regular visits. 

I'd broken that trust once when my father passed, albeit with good reason. I’d done it again after that, disobeying him and pushing him. By not pursuing him I was proving my own fickleness to him. I needed to show him that he mattered to me. That I was worth his time. 

It was a hunch, but I was sure it contained a level of truth.

If he was going to accept me in any manner, he needed to see I was dedicated to seeing this through. Whatever it was. Until the day he didn’t need me anymore, I must be steadfast and dependable.

“...You're right.” I said, a smile breaking out across my face, chasing the clouds away. “You're absolutely right!”

I pulled Armin to me, hugging him tightly and exclaiming my gratitude in a flurry of words.

“I'm glad to help.” Armin said, bewildered, patting my back lightly. “I don’t understand what’s going on exactly. You’re not in trouble with someone, are you? Did they take out a restraining order or something?”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that.” I said, letting him go and opening the car door. “Purely hypothetical, Armin.” I reminded him.

“Yeah, of course.” He agreed. “Take care, okay? Tell Hange I said hey.”

“Sure thing.” I got out of the car, waving him off, and strolled up to the house. I wondered how Hange would react if I did pass on Armin’s greeting. They’d probably get a kick out of it. I’d yet to explain Armin and Jean’s misconception about us - something else they’d probably get a kick out of.

I snuck into the house, wanting to avoid running into Mikasa. She was likely to find a means to trap me in the house, her mood already souring by the amount of time I was spending out of the house lately. 

If the network of Parenting was as effective as it appeared to be, I’d no doubt she knew of my missing homework by this point. They meant well, all of them, don’t get me wrong. I appreciated that. But I didn’t need their help.

I needed the Corporal. 

One way or another, I had to try to make amends. 

I’d wasted too much time already.  Now or never, make or break.

I was going to see him tonight.   
  


* * *

 

 

At nine-thirty the cab pulled up. I was dressed and ready to go and out of the house before Mikasa could stop me. 

The protest was on her lips as I called goodbye, closing the front door with seconds to spare. I dared not look back at the house until I was tucked safely in the back of the cab, smiling sheepishly as her silhouette appeared in the living room window. 

To the driver, I explained the whereabouts of the destination. Without knowing the exact address it was tricky, but he seemed to understand the general area. Hange would know it - though I couldn’t exactly ask for it. I was doing this incognito, without their knowledge or approval. The risk I was taking was enormous.

It dawned on me as the cab pulled away into the traffic. 

No one would know where I was. If the Corporal chose to deal with me permanently, there and then, I was sure to never be found. A grim thought. Of course, the other possibility was him contacting Hange, demanding I be kept away from his private life. I’d lose my only source of income if he did that, and he was entirely within his rights to do so. 

Not so much murder.

Either way, my future was hanging in the balance.

The pressure was enough to knock the air clean from my lungs. I tried to calm my breathing, focusing on what words I wanted to say before the door slammed in my face. 

Everything was riding on my opening gambit, it had to be good. 

Good enough that he wouldn't phone Hange and demand I never go back. Good enough that, maybe, he'd let me into the apartment. Good enough for him not to decide to murder me.  

Good enough that we could start over, with me cleaning his furniture or perhaps his boots. 

_ Anything _ .

All too soon the cab pulled up, and I fished the payment out of my pocket with a shaking hand. We were in the right area, at least. Thanking him, I forced my wobbling legs to lift me out of the back seat and onto the street. My search began.

_ What was I doing? _

Out in the dark at night, strolling by myself, looking for some random guy’s apartment. I’d done some crazy shit in my time, but this? This was a whole new level of fucked up.

I couldn’t stop myself from searching, no matter how detrimental my thoughts became. I wanted to see him. I wanted to patch up my broken ego or whatever the reason was that I was here. 

Walking around, I eventually found what I came for.

I recognized his building. 

This was it.

What was I going to say, if he even let me inside? 

He could be anywhere right now. 

At nine forty-five on a Friday night, who was going to be home? He may have company. He may have found someone else who was able to actually listen to him. He may have forgotten all about me, the insignificant little brat who didn’t know when to stop.

I chewed my lip, lowering my hand from the buzzer. Maybe it was best if I didn’t bother him. I should go home, or better still, find some random other guy to make _ me _ feel good for once.

“...What are you doing here?”

I jumped at the cold voice coming from behind me, panic spreading throughout me. I knew that voice. I’d missed it.

“C-Corporal!” I blurted out without thinking. He looked pissed, his face scrunching with disdain at the title.

“Don't you go shouting that out so loudly. We're in public.” He snarled.

“I'm sorry! I came to see you...” God, I sounded feeble.

“You came to see me? That's kind of obvious, isn't it?” 

“Ah...”

“That isn't how this works,  _ brat _ .” He cocked a hip, drawing my attention to his waist.

My mouth went impossibly dry. He was wearing tight-fitting grey pants, pointed black shoes, and a short leather jacket, zipped up. He looked amazing, and I realized it was the first time I'd seen him in anything other than the clothes he wore with me. I was staring at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“I know that.” I mumbled, looking away. Of course he wasn’t pleased to see me. I expected that much. Didn’t help the painful constriction in my chest, though.  “I wanted to apologize.”

“...Does Hange know you're making unsolicited house calls?” He asked, each word colder than the last.

I hung my head like a kicked puppy. 

“Tch. Come inside. I don't want to be talking to you like this out here.”

He took out a key from his pocket and unlocked the lobby door, stepping in first and holding it open for me to follow. My legs were trembling as I stepped in, and it took all my concentration to stop from falling like a deck of cards as we entered the elevator.

As the doors closed, I became all too aware of our proximity. My blood thrummed in my veins.

This wasn't how I imagined it going at all. My careful plan lay in shreds at my feet, to then be blown away by the wind. Best laid plans and all, wasn't that the phrase?

At least I was being invited up to his floor. 

“I'm sorry, Sir.” I said quietly, stealing a glance at him in the mirrored glass. 

“You came here to collect your money.” He said after a few floors passed. “Not for any other reason. Isn’t that right?”

“No!” I protested, my voice raising so quickly I think it startled us both. How could he think that?

“No?” He parroted, cocking a brow.

“No! That's not true! I...” I'd forgotten about the payment. It would have been a decent excuse, too, if I had been clever enough to come up with it. I had to tell him. 

I spoke hurriedly, turning to face him, imploring him to keep listening. The floors were ticking by. Soon we'd arrive at his floor. Would he let me come with him, or send me straight back down?

“...I'm new at this. I don't know what to do. You're not like any of my other clients and it was my fault for pushing you. I shouldn't have done that. I understand now, even if it is too late, that it's different with you. I haven't been able to concentrate since that night. I've felt awful. I kept waiting for your call and it never came and...” 

I was blushing, trailing off as I realized I'd said too much. 

Way too much.

“You're too honest. You know that, kid?”

The elevator chimed, the doors opening on his floor.

He left, stepping out first, turning to look over his shoulder when I didn't immediately follow. 

“Are you going to spend the night riding the elevator, or are you going to come with me?”

I had to dash to avoid the doors closing on me, narrowly making it through the gap and stumbling after his retreating frame. I think I saw his head shake lightly from side to side.

He held his apartment door open for me. I was quicker on the uptake this time, sliding in past him and walking a few paces into the room. This was it.

This was really happening.

I was back in his apartment, though for how long I wasn't sure. It could all change in a blink of an eye, as he’d shown me on several occasions in the past. I needed to tread very carefully, though what else I could say after my not-so-little speech in the elevator was beyond me. 

“Sit down.” He ordered. I hurried to obey, grateful to be off my legs at last. They felt as though they were made of paper.

He sat down in his chair, one leg folding over the other, a hand cupping his cheek.

I couldn't describe what a comfort it was to me to see him like that. I tried not to let my eyes linger on him too long, as much as I wanted to drink in the sight of him. It was something I thought never to see again, and here it was. I wanted every detail stamped into my memory, lest this be it forever.

The conversation we were about to have was the decider. I needed to choose my words carefully.

My palms were clammy. I rested them on my thighs, staring down at them like a child about to be scolded. 

“You have balls coming here,” He started and I tensed. “I'll give you that much.”

“Thank you.” I uttered, unsure if he was upset or impressed by that.

“Took you long enough to find them.”

“I'm sorry...”

“That was quite the speech you gave in the elevator. Did you use all your word allowance up back there or what?”

I felt my face heat up. “I’m sorry. I… I’m scared I’ll fuck up if I say much more.”

“True, your track record isn’t great.” I could feel his eyes on me. My own gaze was locked on my fingers, twiddling together nervously. “You said I’m different.”

“Ah…I mean… That was…”

“You mean, I don’t call you here to fuck.”

So blunt. I winced. “...Something like that. It’s not a bad thing, though, Sir. I’m okay with that.”

“Are you, now? That’s good to know.” He said, his tone mocking.  “You don’t seem to understand how this is supposed to work. You turn up at my apartment, uninvited, to tell me you’re okay with what I used to hire you for.”

I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. This wasn’t going well at all. 

“No, that’s not… what I meant. Sir.” 

It took all my fraying, battered courage to look to him. To meet his gaze with my own, to hold it, to let him see in my own eyes how sorry I was. “I’m trying to make things right. I care about doing a good job. I don’t know how else to make it up to you.” I took in a shaky breath, wondering where the fuck I’d found this plethora of useless words. 

Maybe if I said enough of them, some of it would amount to making an ounce of sense. 

“No one knows I’m here. If you wanna slice me up, go for it, no one will know to look for me here. Hange doesn’t know, either. If you wanna tell them I came, I can’t stop you. But I would lose my job - that is, if you chose not to kill me. I came here… because I wanted to. I’ve taken the risk, literally putting everything I have on the line, to see you. It might not seem like much to you. For someone like me… For me…” 

Another epic speech there, Yeager. 

He was probably fast asleep listening to me drone on like that. Running out halfway was embarrassing, however. The words wouldn’t come anymore, jamming up in my throat and suffocating me. I looked back down at my hands, despising how I must have looked to him then.

“You certainly found your tongue. For the record, I’m not going to kill you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“If you turn up here without my instruction after this, I will not hesitate to inform Hange.”

“I swear, this is a one-off.” I replied earnestly, though it sounded weak to my own ears. 

He nodded, satisfied with that. “Where do we go from here?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead… I wasn’t sure you’d let me in to begin with.”

“Understandable. I’ll admit, you caught me by surprise. I didn’t think to find you hovering outside.” 

I had been on the verge of bailing, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “So… what happens next?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He said quietly. “Your money is by the door if you want it.”

Oh.

That hurt. 

My throat tightened, as if his fingers were wrapped around it, squeezing hard. I couldn’t breathe, my mind reeling from the blow. I needed to get out of here.

“….Thank you for your time, Corporal.” 

I pushed to my feet, amazed when I didn’t stumble over my own laces, and headed for the door. I felt crushed, broken into a million pieces, a crack running right down the middle of me. I could see the envelope, sitting innocently on the side table. I loathed the sight of it.

I guess I should count my blessings. I was still alive - somehow, in some sense, the heavy feeling in my chest testament to that - and I was leaving with the assurance he wouldn’t kill my livelihood, either. Overall, it wasn’t a bad result. Or so I tried to repair the damage by telling myself that.

“You’re leaving?” He asked.

“I’m grateful you’ve been understanding of my situation,” I continued, my back still to him. I picked up the envelope. It could have been filled with dried leaves, for all it was worth to me.  “I promise I won’t bother you further.”

“I never told you to go.” 

The Corporal moved swiftly, crossing the space put between us with ease. His hand appeared on the door, holding it closed securely. I could scarcely believe my eyes, staring in disbelief at his splayed fingers on the wood. 

“C-Corporal?” 

“Don’t go.”

He spoke so softly I barely heard it over the sound of the thunder in my chest. 

I couldn’t take my eyes away from his fingers. He wore no gloves. For the first time I saw his hands, the slender length of his pale fingers, the neatly trimmed nails. 

“I don’t have to.” I offered,  finding my voice at last. It sounded distant, hazy, confused. Hopeful. “I can stay, if that’s what you want.”

“Do you have any other appointments this evening?”

“...No. I have nothing.”

“Go and change.”

I was so dizzy I could pass out. He was close enough to catch me, too. I could feel his heat, close to mine, close enough to touch. I knew better than to take that opportunity. 

He didn’t need to instruct me twice. I turned, careful to avoid bumping into him, stopping in my tracks as I caught the glimmering emotion lingering on his face, in his eyes. He straightened up, stepping away and allowing me to escape into the sanctity of the spare room. My uniform was there, neatly folded, as ever it was. 

Just what was that look on his face?

I didn’t know his expressions, few and far between though they were, well enough to decipher it. 

Putting it to one side, I dressed quickly and came out, not knowing where this evening would take us. 

Already I was suffering whiplash from the sudden turns, enough to leave me a nervous wreck. My heart leapt into my throat, blocking out the air from my lungs. My head swam with a thousand possibilities and simultaneously, nothing at all. Every thought I grasped slipped through my quivering fingers like grains of sand, carried away by the wind.

The Corporal was in his chair, himself changed into his usual clothes, the ruffled cravat at his neck. I looked him over slowly before announcing my presence.

  
“Corporal.” I said, my voice breaking on a tremor. “I'm ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I hope to see you next week.
> 
> Until then...!


	16. He Who Falls First, Falls The Hardest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go!
> 
> Thank you for all the support so far. I hope you saw the artwork, too! I will be commissioning more.

I wasn't ready.

Nothing at all could have prepared me for what I unwittingly agreed to, of my own volition no less. I did stop to wonder, if I had known, would I still have agreed to go ahead? 

The sorry answer to that question was yes, I probably would have.

My knees were trembling and my heart beat erratically, stopping for seconds at a time only to speed up the next, and to make it worse my lungs left me fighting for every breath.

I'd changed into the familiar uniform, and so too had he. I lamented the loss of his normal wear for a few seconds, our roles no longer murky but clearly defined, the personal touch lost.

We were sitting in the living room of his apartment. I knelt down at his feet as ordered, looking up at him through thick lashes. His face was contorted, lips drawn thin and brows knotted, concentration making his narrow eyes twitch.

He was mesmerizing to watch, whatever the expression he wore (though he tended to stick to the same few). It captivated me, and that I could spend time just looking at him was, to me, a great pastime.

After a long period without him, I was still convinced I was somehow dreaming this scenario. Not too long ago I thought to be without him, forever. That my fumbled, stupid speech allowed me back into his world was a miracle. I was determined to stay here this time.

“Hold out your hand.” He said to me, quietly, his voice breaking on the slightest quiver. At first I was puzzled, and then I saw the complex expression on his face as he inched his fingers towards mine. That was my answer. 

It took time. I waited, patiently, for the moment the smooth texture of his white glove to press against the clamminess of my palm. 

The leather creaked, the only sound in the room now that I held my breath, as he curled his fingers into the gaps between my own. His hand trembled, or maybe mine did - it was impossible to tell when I was as nervous as he must be. I let my fingers collapse around his, bewildered how a basic gesture like this could leave me feeling so intimately connected to him. 

I looked away from him, to our hands, to our fingers as they twitched, settling comfortably around each other.

Is this… what he feared?

The intimacy, the closeness. Was it purely a physical phenomenon, or an emotional one, too? How far was he closed off? Could I reach him like this?

Or was he the one reaching out to me?

My heart twisted painfully, as if my blood were laced with the loneliness he must have felt. I wanted to take him into my arms, to shield him from the demons that plagued him. 

“Are you… okay?” I asked, looking back up at him.

That's when I noticed he was no longer staring at our hands, either.

He was looking right at me.

“What is it?” I said, swallowing the nervous lump in my throat. “Am I doing something wrong, Sir?”

“No.” His fingers tightened around mine fleetingly. “Stay as you are.”

I nodded, running my tongue over my dry lips. 

“You took a risk coming here.” He went on, and I listened, watching his lips move with an odd fascination. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know.” I smiled at the insult. “I think it was worth it, though. You haven’t murdered me.”

“Not yet.”

“There’s still time.” I finished for him, nodding. 

My arm ached from hovering in the air, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I couldn’t break the spell we were under, the fragile essence of our physical connection too precious to lose. I had to hold onto him. If I let go too soon, I was certain he would slip through my fingers. 

Staying with him in this room made me forget everything else. Within these walls, the only thing that mattered to me was him. School, my friends, home; I forgot all of it, focused entirely on the Corporal and his needs. 

“This must seem so dumb to you.” He uttered, his features crinkling with disgust. 

“What, Sir?”

“Being paid to hold an old man’s hand.”

“You’re not  _ that _ old.” He clicked his tongue. I carried on regardless. “I don’t care what we do, Sir. I’m fine with anything.”

Not to say I would object to taking things further. I was undeniably curious how he would look, caught in a moment of bliss, the careful guard he held over himself lowered. I’d imagined it once or twice before, but now was definitely not the time to fantasize. 

It was too late now, though. My body was already reacting to the wayward thoughts in my mind, my blood pulsing hotly and diverting downwards. I was all too easily swayed.

Ah, shit.

“What is it, brat?”

He noticed a change in me. Maybe I was blushing already, and I hastily turned my face from his, shuffling on my knees to ease the growing tension there.  _ Think of something, anything! Anything other than that! _

“N-nothing.” I stammered. Shit.

I was such an idiot.

I was ruining a perfect moment. With any other client this would be a blessing. Yet it had to be the Corporal I found myself struggling in front of. 

There was a slim chance he hadn't noticed. A very slim, sliver of hope that he was unaware of my  _ growing predicament _ . 

He wasn't letting go of my hand, at least. If anything, he held onto my hand more firmly.

“You're disgusting.” He sighed, shaking his head from side to side.

He totally noticed it. 

I felt something inside me shrivel up and die, mortified. 

“...I'm sorry...” I whispered, not exactly sure if I _ should _ be apologizing. I must have missed the class on the etiquette of awkward erections while handholding, as I had no clue as to the correct response.

I could sense his eyes watching me, as I grew too shy to look directly at him. It was strange how I was embarrassed over my own arousal - it wasn’t something I was accustomed to. My clients expected me to be hard for them. They wanted to feel desired, empowered by their own sexual prowess. Whether or not I actually wanted them was irrelevant. 

If I wanted to be booked more than once, a steady erection was essential. 

Now I was trying to cover it up, praying it to go away quickly, my humiliation mounting the longer it remained. 

“I don't mind it.”

“...You don't?” I asked him dumbly, blinking up at him. 

“No, I don’t. Just don't expect me to touch it.”

I laughed at that, despite myself. The idea seemed absurd, and a little enticing. “We'll stick to hand holding.” I fixed my gaze on our connected hands, our entwined fingers, mesmerised as they would come apart to fall back into place again. “One step at a time, right?”

“Did you want to be murdered?” He retorted.

“N-No, Sir. I’m happier with this arrangement.” I hurried to appease him, a little frightened by the seriousness of his voice. It was best not to bait a hungry lion, I guess.

“I haven’t decided if you’re incredibly brave coming here, or utterly stupid.”

“It's a mixture of both.” I confirmed, grateful for the change in subject. 

I was enjoying our exchange. He was a man of few words, but when he did speak, the sound of his voice was pleasantly pitched. I liked the way his mouth moved, curling around the words he seemed to choose so carefully, flashes of his straight teeth glimpsed between his lips. Not a single sound he made was superfluous.

By now, my unfortunate situation had subsided and I was able to shift the weight on my knees, fighting off the deep ache in them just so I could stay holding on a little longer. I couldn’t care less for my diminishing ability to walk after this. I wouldn’t let go until he was ready. 

It took courage for him to get this far, I’ve no doubt. I didn’t fully understand him, or what he was going through, but I was going to do all I could to help him find an answer to it.

I’d met shy guys, the forty-year-old virgins who never found the right one to give themselves to. I’d met other guys who only got off to being stimulated with a foot, or by taking me from behind. Whatever the reason behind their behaviors was not my concern, and I never cared to know. 

The Corporal changed that. I wanted to know why he quivered holding my hand. Little things that I, and most others, took for granted, to him were impossible obstacles. 

I wanted to know why. 

I wanted to understand every aspect of his character. 

Hange warned me not to become personally involved. I never considered it being an issue. 

Until tonight.

“You’re doing great, Sir.” I gave his hand a light, encouraging squeeze. 

“I don’t need your praise, brat.” Despite his harsh words, he returned my squeeze. “I’m beginning to think you’re more stupid than brave.”

“I still think it’s an even mix.” I defended myself, pouting lightly. “Besides, it takes all sorts to make up the world. I have a friend who is incredibly intelligent - his choice in boyfriend is questionable, but he’s smart himself, at least.”

“How smart can be if his boyfriend is an ass?”

“Maybe he’s a mixture, too? Of dumb and smart.” I chuckled, enjoying that the Corporal thought Jean was an ass without even meeting him. If only there was a way I could relay that information to him without exposing myself.

It was my first time telling a client about my life outside. How many rules was I going to break for this guy? I was smashing them down, one by one, removing all of the staying safe techniques that Hange drummed into me. Soon, I’d be telling him my name.

“I think that’s enough for today.” The Corporal announced. 

Reluctantly, I let his hand slip from mine. It felt empty without his to hold.

I got to my feet, inwardly groaning as the agony of replenished blood flow coursed down to my abandoned feet. “Thank you for tonight, Sir.” I said earnestly. “I enjoyed it.”

“A little more than you should have.” He added, bringing a fresh wave of heat to my face. 

I hadn’t expected him to bring  _ that _ up so soon - or at all. 

“Do you think… I could have one thing, before I go?” I blurted out the question before I even gave myself a chance to think it over. I already regretted it.

“How many times do I have to remind you? You don’t make requests.”

“I… I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t… think.”

“What was it?”

“...I wanted to… hug you.”

I stared at his feet, waiting for the earth to open up beneath me and consume me. Any second now, would be ideal. I was ready.

“You had an erection not five minutes ago from hand holding, and you honestly expect me to hug you?”

I swallowed the muddled words before they could fall out of my hanging mouth. His brutally blunt way of speaking was endearing and equally frightening. Did he have to bring it up a second time, so soon after the first?  

“I can... hold that off.” I mumbled, already feeling dejected.

“Can you?” The Corporal got to his feet. “I'm not so sure about that.”

He took a step toward me, studying me carefully, like a wary animal. He drew in a deep, calming breath. He was either going to slap me, or embrace me. Right this moment I was sure it could go either way.  He took another step forward, closing the space between us. Was he really going to…?

“I'll let you go as soon as soon as you signal, if it helps?” I proposed, trying my best to encourage him away from the slapping option.

Still hesitating, he took the final step. His arms stiffly found their way around my waist, keeping a few inches between our frames. With nowhere else to put my own arms I wrapped them around his upper arm, enveloping him.

I could smell him. 

Oh, god, could I smell him. 

His cologne – or was it his natural scent? - whatever it was, was addicting. I missed the musky, masculine notes that accentuated his body. I breathed it in, trying my best to subtlety turn my head into his hair. It was tickling my jawline.

“Did you just _ smell _ me? What are you, some kind of animal?”

Busted. 

“N-No.” I bluffed.

“You’re a bad liar. If you like it so much go get yourself a bottle.” He quipped.

_ I only like it on you.  _

The words almost slipped out of my mouth. 

It was close. 

Too close. Instead they became blocked in my throat, my heart making another Olympic leap as if to throw itself into his arms. Being around this guy would cure any need in me for caffeine at this rate. His palms shifted against me, loosing their awkward grasp and sliding under my jacket to press on my back. He pulled me closer, until my body was flush on his.

My eyes slid shut as instinctively my own grasp on him tightened. Though we'd been here before, this was my first time returning his embrace. I burned every aspect of it into my memory, unwilling to let myself forget a single thing. 

I lovingly added each detail to my growing library of resources, knowing full well I'd return to read them over and over. I would never grow bored of reading from him.

“I like this.” I said, my voice dreamy and distant. Had I meant to say it out loud? Probably not.

His reply was a little stiff. It made me smile. “It's alright.”

“I wasn't sure you'd go for it.”

“I wasn't, either. But you looked like you wanted it.”

I couldn't argue with that. Maybe the one who was being read the most was actually me. All I could hope for, then, was that he wouldn't grow bored. “Maybe I did.” I mumbled, half hoping he wouldn't hear me. Half hoping he would.

“That’s all you’re getting.” He pulled away from me, easing out of my grasp and letting me go. It took all my strength to stay on my feet and not collapse like a forgotten puppet.

I swallowed my disappointment, unsure if I'd crossed the line with my admission. No matter how many times I told myself not to do it I always ended up stumbling over it.

“Don't forget your payment this time. It's right where you left it.”

“Got it. I'll… get changed.” I nodded and scooted off to the spare room. I was always reluctant to change out of this uniform. I didn’t want to change, my fingers toying with the hem of the leather jacket. I really didn’t want to go.

After weeks of fighting to get him back, I was frightened of not seeing him again. If I left tonight… what would stop him from  _ not _ calling for me? Honestly, it wasn’t for me to worry over. Clients came and went (quite literally), why should this one be any different?

For the same reason I’d risked my job - and everything in my life - to come here. The difference was stark, a clear line drawn between him and the others. 

I liked  _ him _ . 

What that meant for me, exactly, I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I would like the answer, either. 

When I came back out he was sitting in his chair, one leg folded over the other and a cup of freshly made tea perched on the coffee table. I tried to ignore the flutter my heart gave at the sight of him. I could already tell I was going to be bad at this whole crush thing. 

“What are we going to do about your boss not knowing you were here tonight?”

“...Ahh...” I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking. “We can keep it between us. Hange would kill me if they knew I came here unsolicited...”

“Alright.”

“Can I… come back?” I ventured, peeking out nervously from underneath my lashes. I was almost afraid to look at him.

“You have to ask?”

I think my heart stopped beating. I stood, open mouthed and looking dumb as a fish out of water, flapping uselessly for some form of an answer before he changed his mind.

“Thank you, Sir. I promise, I won’t let you down. I swear.” I put my hand over my heart as I vowed. I wanted him to see how much I meant it. “We can keep these visits between us, if you like.”

He seemed taken aback by that. All too soon he collected himself, wiping the glimmer of emotion from his face, but not before I got the chance to see it.

“If you're comfortable with that arrangement. What day works best for you? Keep in mind, I need  _ consistency _ from you. I need to know you're going to be here.”

There was definitely no danger of me not turning up. I wasn’t about to risk losing him, not in the least while the memory was still fresh from last time. I’d only just earned my way back in, and I intended to stay.

“We can do Wednesdays?” I suggested. I was trying my best to stay absolutely calm. If I could hold it down long enough my celebratory scream would be all the better in the privacy of the lift.

He nodded in compliance. 

“Stay there a moment.” He said, moving to the kitchen. I watched curiously as he did something out of my line of sight, returning a few seconds later.

“Here. Take this. Don't let me down again, brat.”

He held out a piece of paper to me. I took it from him, glancing down at it. It was a phone number.

“Call me if you’re going to be late, or need to cancel. Only then.”

I nodded, carefully folding the paper back up and putting it my pocket. I can't believe I had his fucking phone number. Could tonight get any better? “Thanks. I’ll use it wisely.”

I picked up the envelope from beside the door, praying the bounce I felt in my step was imaginary only. “I'll... see you on Wednesday, then?”

He made a noise in the back of his throat. I took that as the signal to leave, the conversation - and our evening together - at an end. 

Alone in the privacy of the hallway I allowed myself a few punches to the air in victory, saving my cry of joy for the elevator ride down. Seriously, tonight felt like a total win. I was floating on air. It was so long since I felt this degree of sheer joy, I was almost afraid to let myself enjoy it.

Going home tonight there were many thoughts in my head. Like an overcrowded room, they jostled together, fighting for space. I couldn't focus on any one idea for long before the next one would steal my attention. 

The one thing they all had in common was the Corporal. 

He was quite clearly the only thing I would be able to think about for awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well... things are developing.
> 
> Your thoughts?


	17. Dark Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Sorry for being a little late posting. It's here now though! My editor worked really hard to get this done and I'm so grateful to them. Thank you >3>
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who is here reading this. It really means so much to me! I hope to hear your thoughts on this week's chapter!

Sometimes I questioned myself. 

Sometimes I was too ashamed to even ask.

Tuesday, after school, instead of taking us home I suggested a visit to the mall. Armin was only too happy to oblige when I mentioned the potential for clothes shopping, and we were off.

The shrill cry of children both delighted and distraught the polished, brightly lit expanse, their voices coming with startling clout. The giggle of teens and murmur of adults merged together as we walked by, snippets of conversations coming and going without any meaning.

We were mostly window shopping, weaving in and out of stores and pausing here and there as things caught our eye - Armin more so. There was nothing really we wanted.

“ This shirt would look great on you.” Armin pulled a tight black shirt from the rack and held it up for me to see. We’d been occupying this store for a while now, Armin’s attempts to inspire interest in clothing inexhaustive. I tried to sound more enthusiastic, given that I was the one who suggested this shopping trip in the first place, but it was difficult. 

I gave his current offering a look over, unable to keep back a snort of laughter. “I have four others just like that. At least.”

“ Exactly! Eren, you ought to introduce some more  _ color _ into your wardrobe.” Armin put the shirt back, his point made beautifully, and pulled out a beige t-shirt instead. He held it out against me, eyeing it critically. “It's a start.” He murmured.

“ You chose it.” 

“ Yes, but I don't want to scare you off by choosing something too colorful.” He teased, shooting me a playful glance.

“ Alright, how about this? You choose some things for me to wear and I'll go find some things for you to try on.” I grinned. He hesitated.

There was already a clear winner in this game. Hint: it wasn’t going to be Armin.

We both knew my ability to get dressed was somewhat rather simplistic. Armin was considerably better, choosing cuts and colors that suited his petite frame while I had a vague idea of what worked. I never looked bad, but Armin always suggested I could look  _ better _ .

Well, if I was going to be subject to this torture, I was bringing him down with me. With a shake of our hands he agreed, and we set off to each find suitable outfits for the other to try. Let it be known, I have a competitive streak, and I wasn’t going to lose. 

I was determined to prove him wrong and show that I was capable of choosing a decent outfit. 

We met back up at the changing rooms, collecting the tag from the supervisor and exchanging armfuls.

“ Eren...” Armin called from the changing room. I was busy shuffling a pair of tight grey jeans up my legs when he said my name. “Please tell me you were joking. None of these shirts go with any of these pants.”

“ What?” I said, a little breathless from the impromptu workout. These jeans were practically painted on but – oh, they made my ass look good. “What's wrong?” I answered, albeit distracted by own curves.

Armin let loose a barrage of complaints. Something about clashing colors, unflattering cuts and flares, totally not in season. Had I considered his shape and stature at all? It was a miracle I had any decent clothes at all. Things like that. 

I ran my hands over my ass appreciatively, bending this way and that and admiring the view. My customers would certainly like these. 

“ You have no sense of style.” He whined on. By now I was only half listening. “I'm... there's no way I'm coming out in  _ this _ .”

“ Don't be like that Armin. I put my all into that collection.” I defended myself, managing to tear my gaze away from myself. “I’m sure you can make anything look good.”

“ No way. Absolutely no way. If Jean saw me in any of this he'd dump me in the nearest trash can - where I would belong.”

“It can’t be that bad.” I protested, slipping into a white button up and smart pants. If anyone ever took me out for dinner, this would work wonderfully. In fact, the majority of what Armin picked out were sitting in a ‘to buy’ pile, having only discarded a few shirts. 

Satisfied, I changed back into my normal clothes and stepped from behind the changing curtain, waiting outside . “Come on, show me.”

Armin’s

“No way.”                                                             

I was kind of hoping he would like something of my choices, and knowing that he wouldn't even come out... well, if he wasn't coming out, I was going in.

In a flash I pulled back the curtain, enough to let me in, slamming my hand over his mouth as he went to scream at the sudden intrusion. “Shh!” I hushed him, trying not to giggle. “I want to see.”

“ Eren!” He whispered as I took my hand away. “What are you doing?”

“ Don't be scared. I'm not gonna touch you up.”I grinned.

“ Wha... what kind of answer is that?” Armin said, horrified.

“ Shh! Or they'll kick us out.”

He looked pissed. But it was hard to take it seriously when he was shirtless and blushing, his hair tousled from changing. I was trying my best not to let slip another laugh.

“ They should kick you out.”

“Don’t be like that,  I wanted to see.”

“ There is nothing to see.”

“ Jean begs to differ.”

That retort earned me not only an angry glare but a quick slap to my upper arm – both of which, I admit, I absolutely deserved. “Sometimes you run your mouth too far, Eren.”

“ You should think about bringing him here. You two could have some fun.” I glimpsed the tight space, the little bench in front of the mirror. My mind was going places it most certainly shouldn’t.

“ See? That is exactly what I mean.” Armin tugged his shirt over his head, but not before I could catch the glint in his eye, reflected in the mirror. I'd put an idea in his head. A naughty one at that! It seems my friend was progressing quickly. 

“I’m done here. Let’s leave before they throw us both out.” Armin was still sulking as he left the cubicle, leaving me to haul the pile of unwanted clothes and sheepishly return them to the clerk. I fetched my own collection, and scurried after Armin.

“ You liked those, then?” Armin asked as we got in line.

“ I did. Thank you. And... I'm sorry for being so shit at picking out clothes.”

“ That's an understatement. You're dreadful at it.”

“ You don't have to be so blunt about it.” I sniffled, pretending to be hurt. Armin didn't buy it, not for  a second.

“ You need to practice that look almost as much as you do clothes buying. What prompted this sudden interest, anyway? You want to look good for Hange?”

My jaw stiffened. “Y-yeah... “

“That’s good! Things must be going well.”

The conversation dropped as my turn to be served came up.

I paid for my clothes and we left the store, my mind slipping to finding the right moment to tell him the truth. The longer it went on, the worse it got, but I didn’t know how to tell him. Luckily, he sensed my awkwardness and the conversation moved quickly on.

“ Is there somewhere else you wanted to check out?” He asked as we sauntered along.

“Mhm… there was one other thing, since we’re here.”

“What was it?”

“ There's a cologne I liked the smell of.” I uttered, feeling embarrassed. I expected Armin to tease me more, as revenge for my antics at the clothes store. He didn’t, to my surprise. 

“ Okay! Let’s go.”

“ Th-thanks.”

“ Hopefully your nose works better than your eyes do.” He nudged me playfully, knocking some of the tension from my shoulders. I had to laugh.

The perfume store was, unsurprisingly, thick with a myriad of fragrances that assaulted our noses the moment we opened the door. Armin was sneezing a few paces in, hurriedly taking out a tissue as the sneezing fit waged war on him.

“ Do you know what it was called?” His voice was muffled by the tissue and mucus.

Crinkling my nose I shook my head. “Not a clue. I caught a bit of it the other day and I wanted to find out what it was.”

“ I suggest asking the assistant.”

The assistant in question was a pretty young woman. Her hair was long, straight and brown but otherwise I had nothing to comment on. Her name tag read Frieda.

“ Hello, there. How can I help you today?” She smiled at us, unphased by the onslaught of perfume. How she worked here, I would never know. Even my own nostrils were tingling with irritation.

Little did she realize, though, that I was going to be her worst customer. The overtly vague kind who really has no clue what he wants beyond a murkily-realized concept. “I'm looking for a cologne.”

I know. I hated myself for it but it seemed like a good opening to the interaction. I practically heard Armin cringe.

“ You're in the right place! Would you like to try some samples?” Not even phased. Frieda, you’re a champion of the retail world.

“ That seems like a good idea.” Armin offered.

Frieda directed us to a couple of chairs as she gathered a handful of thin white strips of card. “I have some fragrances a young man such as yourself might like.” She chirped, smiling brightly.

I glanced to Armin, who was wiping at his sore nose, mouthing an apology. He was a soldier in my eyes, battling on.

He waved my unspoken concerns away. “I'll be fine. It's easing up already.” He was lying. I could tell by the three sneezes that promptly followed.

“ You boys are so cute. Okay, try this one first.” Frieda handed me the first strip. 

Bringing it to my nose I sniffed lightly, instantly turning away from it. “No, that's not it.”

“ You're after a particular one,  or general?” She inquired.

“ Mhm. Something in particular.  I don't know what it was called... I don't even know how to begin describing it.” I replied, feeling more helpless with every word. I was looking for a needle in a haystack. There was no promise it would even be stocked here. All I knew was, was that I had to at least try to find it.

“ Don't look so sad.” Frieda said. “Let’s do our best! Was it light, or heavy? Floral? Musky?”

I cast my mind back to being at the Corporal's place. I held him in my arms, the scent of his cologne finding its way to stroke my senses. It was... it was…

“ Musky.” I stated. I was pulling on every ounce of my memory and combining it with my descriptive prowess for this. “With a little spice?”

Frieda wore a puzzled expression as she turned to bring a selection of different fragrances to the counter. “Musky and spicy.” She repeated, spraying a strip and waving it around for a moment. “How about this?”

“ ...No, not quite. It's closer, though.” Whatever that meant, I thought to myself. I had no idea what I was talking about when it came to perfumes. I wanted to smell him more often – that was the driving force behind this. It's foolish and schoolgirl-y and I am totally, painfully aware of that fact. But I didn't know how else to cope with how I was feeling. 

“ Can you tell me where you first noticed it? How old were they?” Frieda asked, innocently enough.

“ Ah...uhm...” I stuttered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. Armin looked at me expectantly, and my discomfort deepened. “...Uh... S-Someone hugged me and they were wearing it. I really liked it...They’re older than me.”

“ Oh! You should have asked them what it was!” Freida laughed, spraying another strip. “Here, try this one.”

I shook my head. “That's not it, either.”

“ You're a tough customer. I have one left for you to try, though I think it is a little heavy for a young man such as yourself.” Frieda held a black, oval bottle in her hand. She sprayed the strip and passed it to me. “Guys your age tend to go for lighter fragrances, but if you like it...”

In my time, I'd come across many fragrances. Men liked to douse themselves in the stuff, normally after a session with me to mask the scent of their betrayals. Or to cover their shame. Or simply because they didn't know what a respectable amount of cologne was. 

You would think the richer, the smarter, what with higher education standards and all. Let me tell you that that is mostly not the case. Some knew better, spritzing a little here and there. A man in a good cologne did wonders for the libido. 

The Corporal proved to be one such man, his use so light I only noticed it when I was close enough to breathe him in. 

Frieda was right.. The older gentleman tended more towards heavier scents with sweet overtones and musky undertones. 

T hat was about all I knew on it. For the Corporal, it was the first time I was able to properly catch his scent. It surprised me to find him wearing any at all, given his penchants to keep me a blank canvas. For a second, as the depth of the fragrance sunk into my senses, I felt he was here with me. 

If I closed my eyes he would surely appear.

I could smell him.

_ I found him _ .

“ ...This is it.” I whispered, breathing it in once more. “This is definitely it.”

“ Success!” Frieda chimed, beaming happily.

“ Good job.” Armin said, wiping at his nose. “I'm sure it smells good.”

“ Thank you! Thank you for all your help. I'll take the biggest bottle you have.”

Frieda took me through the checkout process, chirping away almost to herself. I wasn't sure if I was making sounds in the right places but she seemed not to notice either way. I was too busy in my own thoughts, wondering how exactly I was going to use this cologne now I owned it. I never wanted to tire of it. Especially not when he was the one wearing it.

Cologne in hand, we exited the perfume shop.

Armin was grateful the assault on his sensitive nose was finally over and suggested we fetch some dinner. To that end we hopped into a local fast food joint, and sat down with our burgers and sodas.

“ Did you smell Hange wearing that cologne, then?” Armin said, wasting no time in getting to the heart of the matter. My ass barely touched down and he was on it.

His question caught me off-guard. I hesitated, and thankfully he took that for embarrassment. 

“So, Hange was the one wearing the cologne.”

I spluttered, spitting my cola. “Mhm.”

“He really is older than you? We thought he was a little, but how much?”

You also thought they were a she - well, they could be. It was unconfirmed.

“I don’t really know.”   


“Oh? Isn’t he your boyfriend?  I thought you’d know him a little better by now.”

“It’s never really come up.” I was playing with the straw, poking it in and out of the hole of my drink, avoiding Armin’s piercing eyes. Inside, I sang a mantra;  _ please don’t ask me more questions, please don’t ask me more. _

I haven’t the answers. 

“Eren… it’s okay, if you’re just sleeping together. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Gee, Armin. Being with Jean sure has  _ loosened _ you up.”

It was his turn to sputter, and I sat back, enjoying the moment of respite and revelling in his discomfort.

“Things with me and Hange are a little complicated. That’s all. It’s not as simple as things are with you and Jean.”

“Complicated how? Because he’s your first boyfriend?”

I shrugged, unsure how to answer him. “Something like that.”

His expression was stern, and I could see he was fighting with himself to say something more. With a sigh he left me in peace.

At least I had not lied. 

Not entirely.

Things with the _ Corporal  _ were complicated. It was far worse now that I came to realize I had feelings for him - more than I should have. What I hoped to gain from it I don’t know. There was no good end, no fairy tale walk off into the sunset for us. 

There was no future. 

A ll these possibilities were laid out neatly for Armin, and I was glad to see him happy with someone, but I also envied him it. I had to be clever and fall for a client of all people. The most impossible client, no less. 

Armin’s hand rested over mine, squeezing and pulling me from my thoughts. “Hey, you look a little pale. Are you alright?”

“...I’m fine,” I said, putting on a smile and squeezing his fingers in return. “Just got a little lost in my thoughts.”

“Whatever is on your mind, it’ll work itself out.” Armin reassured me. 

“Thanks. I hope so, too.”

We finished our food and, when our hands were loaded with bags (mine more than his), we headed home. 

“Ah, there you are.” Mikasa greeted me as I stumbled in through the front door, collapsing in a heap amongst my shopping. “You could have mentioned you were going to be late.”

“Sorry, mom.” I groaned, earning myself a slap to the back of the head. 

“...Where are you getting all this money from?” She asked, kneeling down and peeking into the bags as I lay there, too exhausted to move. Retail therapy was hard work!

“My job.” I said plainly. Ah, I could easily fall asleep here in the hallway. I never knew our carpet could be this comfortable, this inviting....

“Eren!”

“Wh-what!?” I jumped up, startled. I was met with Mikasa’s concerned face.

“They’re paying you  _ so _ much.” 

“You don’t have to worry. I’m working extra shifts, it’s fine.” I insisted, easing myself to my feet and gathering up my bags. 

“You’ll wear yourself out at this rate. You have school and homework, too. Are you sure it’s okay? Working this much?”

I was halfway up the stairs, escaping from this conversation as I always did. “Really, don’t worry. I’m keeping on top of it all. Rent, too.” 

“It would be easier if you moved back with me.”

I didn’t reply to that. 

There was no way I could even consider that as an option. 

I threw the bags to one side of my room, salvaging the only one I was interested in. The cologne.

When Mikasa made no move to come up the stairs and resume our talk, I knew I was safe to take the bottle out of the box (which I stored safely on my desk. Just in case I needed to return it - and for absolutely no other reason, mind you). Laying down, I sprayed a small amount onto my pillow and breathed it in. Oh, that smelled  _ good _ .

Okay. I was totally handling this whole crush thing. Totally.

I could feel my pants grow tight on my waist as I lay with my nose buried in my pillow, the Corporal’s cologne fragrancing every breath I took and heightening my budding arousal. 

Resistance was futile. 

My hips pressed deeper onto the mattress, grinding slowly as my arousal grew. 

Giving in to the urgings of my body, I rolled over and lowered my hand to my groin, rubbing gingerly through my jeans. I imagined it was his hand pressing on me, muffling my heated breath and whimpers into the pillow.

The ticklish, tingling pleasure radiated through me, rising up from my waist and spreading to my toes and fingers and everywhere in between. 

_ Corporal. Ah, that feels so good… right there… _

Fuck, I wanted him. I wanted him so badly - I wanted to be on top of him, underneath him, anywhere. I don’t care. I just wanted to-

My phone buzzed, jerking me from my fantasy. 

Growling in frustration at the tempering of my mood, I glanced at the text waiting for me.

Hange.

As promised a few days prior,  it was the details for my next client. Nothing unusual listed. I didn’t think too much of it and threw the phone down, annoyed that it had dared interrupt me. Not that it would take much to get me back into the swing of things, I just didn’t appreciate having to stop.

I rolled onto my back again, my cock still hard and the need to finish still pumping in my veins. I lowered my hand back into my pants, too lazy to remove them for the time being, and curled my fingers around my dick.

That’s when it hit me.

  
Tomorrow was Wednesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, 'Dark Obsession' is a super nice cologne - if you happen by a store with it, give it a sniff (and tell me if you do!). It's really worth it.
> 
> I look forward to reading your comments!


	18. Mission: Reconnaissance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> I hope you aren't too disappointed to find this is a Armin chapter. It's a short one, though? Please read it; it has some important stuff! That and my editor roasted me hard for various things, and I'll be upset if it goes to waste...
> 
> Either way, I promise it'll be worth it. The following chapters are centred around our main pair for the most part, so just a little more and you'll have the reward at last.
> 
> Thank you for your patience!

The coffee shop was bustling with activity, the hiss of the milk frother making conversation between us difficult.

It forced me to raise my voice to be heard, which is exactly what I didn’t want to be doing. I leaned forward, speaking in as hushed a tone as the setting would allow, all the while hoping the object of my observations would remain oblivious to my spying on them.

“I don’t understand what we’re doing here exactly,” Jean said, sipping his coffee and fixing his gaze on me, “I thought you wanted to like, go on a date or something.”

“Sorry.” I had the decency to feel guilty, at least. While it was true I had called him out under somewhat false pretenses, it was also a long shot that the mysterious person I hoped to see would actually be here. As it was, they were here, and so my backup plan of lunch and a movie with Jean would remain just that. A backup.

“What’s the deal anyway? Isn’t she Eren’s girlfriend or something?” He gestured over his shoulder, to where Hange was seated at another table, so far too engrossed in their work to notice us. I glanced over every now and then, ensuring he couldn’t leave without my knowledge.

I’d invited Jean here often in the weeks that followed Mikasa’s call, all on the off-chance of finding Hange. Fitting it around school proved the most challenging. It was all time well spent, but seeing Hange stroll in no more than five minutes after we received our drinks was something of a victory.

“Not quite. It’s complicated.”

“It’s Eren we’re talking about. How complicated can it be?”

“Complicated enough. Keep your voice down, I don’t want to be noticed.” I spoke in a hushed tone, encouraging Jean to do the same.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d be a little jealous over your dedication to that guy.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, incredulous at the implication.

“I don’t know. You seem overly interested, that’s all. You aren’t carrying a torch for him that or anything, are you?” His tone was slightly mocking.

“Not anymore.” I muttered, peeking over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jean. I can’t tell you the full story but… trust me when I say it’s important.”

“I don’t doubt. So, what are we doing exactly?”

“A little bit of reconnaissance.”

Jean looked dubious, but otherwise held his tongue. Relatively. “On Eren’s girlfriend?”

“Yes.” I winced at the _girlfriend_ part.

I had no choice. I couldn’t reveal that Hange was his boyfriend without outing Eren, something he was adamant I was not to pass on. It wasn’t for me to tell, anyway. Still, it made this task all the more difficult.

Mikasa’s concerns over Eren’s erratic behaviour were worsening, which lead me to be here now, taking action to find out exactly what was going on. I was not at all comfortable with the premise of spying, but desperate times meant for desperate measures.

Following my gut instinct, I knew Hange was somehow involved with Eren’s financial situation. From what little I had gleaned in my conversations with Eren himself, that was my conclusion. I never had, and still didn’t, buy his shelf-stacking job story. Right now, my top theory was Hange was providing the money. Nothing else made an ounce of sense, and even that was tenuous.

He was older, yes, but to be Eren’s… _sugar daddy_? That term made me uncomfortable.

I tried not to dwell on it.

“You think she’s cheating or something?” Jean asked, sipping his coffee.

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. Do you remember that Sunday afternoon, a while back now, when Mikasa phoned me?”

Jean was grinning. “I remember certain things about that weekend, sure.”

“Behave.” I scolded, looking away as my cheeks heated up. “A-Anyway. Mikasa seems to think something odd is going on, and I think Hange is involved.”

“Involved? What, you think she’s pimping her boyfriend out or something?” Jean offered, and I hoped he meant it jokingly.

“Don’t be absurd.” I slapped at his wrist. “That’s gross.”

“If not that, then what?”

“I don’t know. That’s why we’re here.” I continued the surveillance over Jean’s shoulder. Whatever Hange was doing, occupied his full and undivided attention. His chin rested in one hand, moving only to tap the keyboard. His back was mostly turned to us, yet from here I couldn’t make out the contents of the screen. Whatever it was seemed important.

“You know,” Jean began, placing his mug down. It was half empty. “When I asked you out all those months ago, I never would have expected to one day be sitting in a cafe, with you, spying on that moron’s girlfriend.”

“I… I’m sorry.” I caught the hurt tone in his voice. It hit me like a sheet of ice. “Really. I…”

“It’s okay. I know Eren is important to you.” Jean took my hand and kissed my knuckles, chasing the cold away. “Make it up to me later, got it?”

I nodded, grateful to have an understanding boyfriend at a time like this.

The moment between us ended when Hange received a call. Instantly my attention dived over Jean’s shoulder, my ears straining to catch a word of his conversation. It was futile over the noise of the cafe.

Phone pressed to his ear, Hange stood and began packing up his laptop.

“This is it. S-she’s leaving, and we’re going to follow.”

Jean obliged me, taking one last gulp of his coffee. “Say when.”

I kept my vision mobile, flicking about the cafe lest Hange spot me watching. Thankfully, he didn’t, too wrapped up in his call and collecting his things before approaching the door.

A few seconds after they were gone, I deemed it safe enough for us to follow.

“...Let’s go.”

I sprang to my feet, weaving through the tables and people and chairs to get to the door. Everyone seemed intent on stopping me. Opening the door, I peered out, spying Hange’s form retreating down the street. Turning back, I saw Jean hovering at a table.

“Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Jesus, Armin, calm down.” Jean trudged over to me, not at all picking up on the urgency of the situation.

“She headed this way. Let’s go!”

“Wait up, Armin.” He held onto my wrist, forcing me to return my attention back to him. All the while we dawdled here, Hange was making good his escape from us. I’d lose sight of him at this rate.

We needed to move!

“We don’t have time for this.” I pressed.

“Armin, relax a moment. We might not need to follow her.”

“What? Why?”

“...She left this behind.”

Jean held up a small black organizer.

“J-Jean…!”

“Let’s go find another cafe just in case she comes back to this one looking for it, before we’ve had a chance to.”

I nodded, taking one last look down the street. Hange was no longer in view.

Silently, I made an apology - to both him, and Eren. I didn’t make a habit out of spying and snooping on my friends, but this was a desperate measure. Something was going on, and Mikasa’s concern only served to push me to action. If his own sister was worried, then I should be, too.

Neither of us were blind to the oddity that was Eren Yeager.

In fairness, we expected a degree of his peculiarity following the tragic circumstances that surrounded his life. To lose first his mother, and then father, it was enough to send anyone out of control, and Eren was no different.

Thinking back, the first change was shortly after his father departed for Europe.

Of course, no one thought much of it then. It got to the point where I barely saw him anymore, outside of school that is, and like that time passed between us. My impromptu party was more a means to see Eren outside of school. Even then, he left suddenly, and his explanation as ever was lackluster.

I’d put off finding out the truth long enough. Whatever we found in Hange’s organizer, would be a truth I had to know.

To that end, Jean and I found a quieter cafe several doors down.  Selecting a table away from the window lest he come looking, we ordered some more drinks and sat down with the organizer on the table between us. If it was at all possible for an item to emit an aura, it was surely this one in front of me now. My fingers twitched.

“Now,” Jean placed his hand over the organiser. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re risking your friendship here, aren’t you? If Eren catches wind of your snooping, he’s gonna be pissed.”

I hung my head. “This is for Mikasa, too. If he’s involved with something dangerous then… then I feel it’s my duty to find out. If that means losing him...”

“This really isn’t like you, Armin. For whatever reason, that guy means a lot to you. This kind of thing is the shit _I_ would pull, not you. Is it really that bad?”

I fell quiet, thinking it over. Jean was right.

This wasn’t at all like me, and I was by no means enjoying myself by going behind my best friend’s back. Whatever he was trying to hide, I was now trying to expose.

With no clue what I would find, if anything at all, was it okay to back out now? To pretend this never happened? And what if I went ahead? Would I still be able to act the same way around him? I didn’t know the right answer, in truth. Perhaps there was no right way, not when I was already this far down the wrong path.

“It’s for his own sake.” I said finally, my mind made up. It was more of a reassurance to myself, an affirmation that this was the _right thing to do_. “I’d rather…be the one to lose him, than have Mikasa lose him. At least this way I can take the blame for her.”

“How noble.” Jean muttered, taking his hand off the organiser. “Whatever happens, you still got me.”

“Thanks.” I smiled faintly, and turned my attention to the organizer. “Once we’ve looked, we need to find a way to get it back. Preferably without Hange knowing it was us who took it in the first place”

“We can work that out later. She’s the one who left it behind, we just happened to be the ones to pick it up.”

“R-Right.” That assuaged my guilty conscience a little more, however that I felt at all guilty in the first place was proof enough of my wrong doing. Nothing could take back the fact I had ordained to do this in the first place.

“Are you going to do it, or do you want me to?” Jean prompted, seeing my hesitation.

“No, I should be the one to do this.” I took a deep breath, and reached for the organizer.

My gut twisted painfully as I unhooked the lace fastening, my fingers quivering as I opened the leather cover.

There would be no going back to the way things were after this. My relationship with Eren could change forever after this moment - for better, or for worse.

Despite being adamant my heart was in the right place, it would be difficult for him to recognize that and value it above his feelings of inevitable betrayal.

He had every right to feel that way, too. I wouldn’t blame him for it. Better me than Mikasa.

The fact remained I did this behind his back, that I _didn’t trust the truth he told me_. When had we begun to drift apart, I wondered? What was so important to be kept a secret, that he would go so far to lie about it?

Jean watched me closely as I scanned the pages, deciphering the handwritten scrawl contained within. It was well used, numerous details jotted down and, in the few seconds I was looking, apparently color coded.

“Find what you were looking for? Hey, Armin? You alright? You seem a little pale.”

 

* * *

 

I took the organizer back to the original cafe, handing it in discreetly and making a swift exit. I then parted ways with Jean, taking myself home to deal with the sudden wave of sickness that struck me. He was disappointed, but he let me leave with the promise to call him if I needed anything. He didn’t ask about what I discovered.

I wouldn’t know how to answer if he had. What was it that I thought I saw?

Turning the engine off, I sat alone in my car, parked up outside my house. On the passenger seat was my phone, my wallet, and a single business card I pulled from Hange’s organizer. That was the answer I got from looking, my reward for snooping.

With a handful of the small cards tucked into the inside flap, I assumed he wouldn’t notice one missing. I hadn’t looked further than that. There wasn’t a need to.

Was Eren really involved with Hange in such a manner?

It was possibly a bad coincidence. Maybe Hange was recruiting. Maybe they were actually dating, and I was being a terrible friend for believing the worst. Was it so unbelievable to me that Eren was dating someone?

Jean’s words from the cafe came back to haunt me, jabbing icy fingers into my heart and freezing my blood. _Are you still carrying a torch for him?_

I rested my head on the steering wheel, weighed down by the heaviness of my thoughts. Things were far more complicated than I first realized.

_I love Jean._

If not for Mikasa’s concerns, I would never have let myself become involved with this. Mikasa asked me to help.

My disbelief over his relationship wasn’t founded in my own feelings; his flimsy lies about his work were never believable, and with the influx of ready cash he possessed, I had sound reason to distrust him.

Those facts partially concluded my fear already, even without my phoning the number on the card. I knew what I would find when I called, what would be on the website.

My feelings, on the other hand, were nothing beyond friendship.

I learned the hard way, through years of longing, that Eren was never going to be interested. I was okay with that, too. Being his friend was, and always will be, enough for me, even without Jean filling the hole he left in my heart.  Jean wasn’t some sort of substitute, either.

Eren and I… were not meant to be. Neither was Hange.

Something was going on there, and I was no longer under the illusion it was a wholesome romance - or a romance at all.

Wiping the sweat from my palm, I retrieved my phone and the card from the seat next to me.  
  
It was time to get some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you read? Did you enjoy it?
> 
> I hope so. Please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts - what you liked, or didn't like, your ideas for what might come? Anything. Just throw your head down on the keyboard if you like. It all makes a difference to my inbox (and, subsequently, my day!)
> 
> I look forward to seeing you again next chapter!


	19. Sleeping Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for returning for another chapter!
> 
> It was my birthday yesterday! -party poppers-
> 
> I spent it working, and writing. Huzzah!
> 
> My editor and I worked in tandem on this chapter, so hopefully it's alright! Their edits are always amazing, so I'm sure their side of things will be fine. 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I always look forward to reading your insights.
> 
> EDIT: I made a slight edit to the chapter. There was a single line that my colleague pointed out as an in-continuity, and I have since corrected this.

This week was kicking my ass. I hadn’t managed a single moment of rest between homework assignments, socializing and work.

The previous night was spent begging Hange to let me off seeing my new client. Reluctant though they were, they finally agreed when I told them I had an unavoidable and rather sudden _family obligation_ \- the excuse no employer could rightfully argue against.

An obligation which, though it had been a lie originally,  was quickly becoming a painful truth.

“You need to stay home.” Mikasa sighed, leaning on my door frame in an attempt to stop me from leaving. “You're exhausted.”

“Isn't this what being an adult is about?” I retorted, checking my hair for the umpteenth time in the mirror. There was a single strand, right on the crown, that refused to lay flat. The bastard. “I'll only be gone a little while.”

“And where are you going?”

“To work. I told you before, they've given me a permanent midweek shift.” I avoided her gaze as I spoke. I could already feel the tips of my ears changing color. I picked my phone up off the side, checked the time and pocketed it. “I need to leave, or I'll be late.”

Mikasa folded her arms, her stern gaze fixed on me, unyielding. “I know you're not telling me the truth. If you're going to hang out with your girlfriend, then say so. But don't think you can lie to me so easily.”

“I'm- I don’t have one, Mikasa.” I said, scowling slightly.

As if on cue, I heard the honk of the cab.

Mikasa held her a ground a few seconds more, long enough to make her point, and stepped aside. “I'll be back in a couple of hours.” I mumbled, sliding past her. I hurried down the stairs, too afraid to look over my shoulder at her. I knew what I would find if I did; her displeased expression, lips parted as she sighed at her wayward brother’s ways.

Pushing my feet into my shoes, I hollered a goodbye up to her and dashed out the house and into the sanctuary of the leather seating of the cab.

I didn't feel Mikasa's cold stare leave me until I was knocking on the Corporal's door.

I hated arguing with her. It left me uneasy.

Things had been generally peaceful between us. We bickered, as siblings do, from time to time. Lately, though, it was getting worse. I knew the heated exchange before I left was far from over. That was a warning shot. The rest would follow.

She spoke only out of concern, for me, for my health, but I could take care of myself. I wasn't the little boy she still viewed me as, and I was determined to somehow prove it to her. I could handle this. I _was_ handling it.

Next week was the set date for me presenting the money for the mortgage, and I was certain these extra sessions sent me well over the target.

That would surely get her off my case - if it didn’t, I don’t know what would.

My worries evaporated when the door opened. Like a hand reaching in and pulling me free, I was suddenly only thinking about him.

The Corporal was there, waiting for me on the other side, the same expression on his face as always. I was smiling, even if he wasn't.

“What are you looking so damn happy about?” The Corporal ushered me inside with his hand. “Smiling so widely... it's creepy.”

I ignored the comment and headed straight to where I knew my uniform would be waiting. I changed quickly, well versed in how this garb went on by now. It still made no sense to me, but I figured it had to have some kind of relevance to him.

I didn't care. If he told me to wear a tutu and a tiara I would (though I have to admit, I'm glad he hadn't asked for that).

“I'm happy to see you.” I said honestly as I came back out. The Corporal was carrying a freshly brewed cup to the coffee table.

“You saw me a week ago.” He placed the cup down carefully.

“Doesn't matter how long it is. I like seeing you, Sir.” I ventured.

He shot me a look as he sat down, one I couldn't quite decipher. It was probably safe to say it was telling me to shut up, so that's exactly what I did.

He sipped at his tea. “Sit down.”

“Oh, right.” I took the invitation (command?) and sat myself down on the couch, the leather groaning as my weight pressed onto it. It was comfortable, much more comfortable than the floor. I twiddled my thumbs, unsure of what else to do with myself. I was certain he was more nervous than I could ever possibly be.

Undoubtedly, he was sitting there working up the courage to initiate some kind of contact between us. I could tell from the way his hands moved. He clasped them together, lacing his fingers, at first. Then he let them fall apart, curling and uncurling them awkwardly.

Each time his frown deepened so did my feelings for him. It was impossible not to feel anything when a man this stern was being this adorable.

I reached across the space and held out my hand to him, palm upwards.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” I asked. “I mean, I’d like it if you… held my hand.” I met his gaze as he looked up from my hand. I could see the inner workings in his mind, the cogs grinding to procure the answer.

His fidgeting, uncomfortable hand came to rest on my own, outstretched one.

It was like handling a bomb about to detonate. The feeling of trepidation made my fingers tremble as they curled around his palm. One false move was all it would take, and with so many wires it was impossible to know which was the right one to sever. This one, or that one? The clock was tick, tick, ticking.

I glanced up through my lashes at his expression, to gauge how many precious seconds I still had.

Longer than expected.

Unfortunately my heart was going to give out long before the Corporal managed to end my life. Precious minutes were shaved off as gradually his fingers curled into the base of my palm. If only he would take the damn glove off, I would know how he really felt.

“...Have you been reading anything lately?” I asked after a while, breaking the heavy silence that came between us. I needed to shatter the tension, to take his mind off what he was doing, to give him the space he needed to relax.

I also wanted to know him. I wanted to learn about him, every little detail I could soak up like a sponge.

He contemplated my question for a few seconds, and then replied, “Nothing of interest.”

“A while back you were reading something with a French title. I couldn’t tell you what it was but… you speak French, Sir?”

Something in his voice, the slightest change in his tone, made me listen closely. “I am French, on my mother’s side. She’s the one who taught me.”

I filed that away under _very important information_.

“That's pretty cool.” One of these days I would hold inspiring conversation. Today, clearly, was not that day. I felt like he told me something crucial, yet my response was lackluster.  I didn’t know what to say to that.I felt like it deserved something more from me. “I only know one language and it's a real struggle with that sometimes.”

Nice one. That was the best I could come up with. I applauded my own lack of brilliance.

“You stutter less.”

“...I'm sorry?”

His eyes met mine and I felt my blood freeze under their scrutiny. His gaze had the uncanny ability to make me feel as if every sin, every lie, every ounce of mischievousness I ever engaged in, was suddenly visible to him. Like specks of dirt on my soul, he could see all that I tried to hide as clear as day.

“You used to stutter nearly every sentence when you spoke.” He said matter-of-factly. “Your handle of the English language is improving.”

“Oh.”

I was blushing. I was a beacon of light on a dark, dark night, and I couldn't even tear my hand from his to cover my cheeks with. Did I really stutter so much in front of him?

“...You, then, also, Sir.” I said awkwardly. What kind of sentence even was that? I gestured to our hands. “You're much more comfortable with being touched now. I guess we’re both moving forward.”

“That was the point of seeing each other in the first place. I didn’t expect to be helping you with your language at the same time, I’ll admit.”

“And here I thought you wanted me to clean, Sir.”

“It was never about cleanliness.” He said, almost too quietly for me to catch. I wanted to laugh; he was lying if he wouldn’t admit it was just a little bit about the cleanliness. I knew better than to voice these thoughts, however. They were definitely the wrong wire.

“I know that now.” I shifted my hand over his, so that I held his properly, our fingers interlaced.

I wanted to connect with him. Could he feel that? Could he feel me, through the leather he wrapped himself in? Would I ever make it underneath, would I ever break through the last barrier?

I don't know. I could only try. And I was trying.

“You should read to me sometime.” I surprised myself with that one.

I surprised him, too. His thin brow lifted, arcing over his narrowed eye. “ _Read_ to you?”

 _Go with it, Yeager. You’ve come this far!_ “...Y-Yeah. That French book I saw you reading before, for example.”

“You wouldn't understand any of it.” He brushed it off. Not as bad as I’d expected; I was a little disappointed by his lack of witty comeback on that one. I’d left myself wide open to it.

I shrugged. “I'd like to hear it, if you’ll do it.”

“I'm not paying to read to you. Hire your own boy for that.”Wrong wire.

He took his hand away from mine. It was like being shut out in the cold. He got to his feet, and I'd already resigned myself for the inevitable. I'd blown it. Just like that. _Boom._

“I'm sorry...-”

He sighed. I stayed in place, dumbstruck and unwilling to move yet, hopeful I could resolve it somehow.

“Do you even know what the story is?” He was standing over by the book case, his back to me.

“I... I don't...”

He sat himself back down, book in hand, and set those wintry eyes on me. “It's a French novel originally, but also adapted into a play and a film. It has been translated to English. Dangerous Liaisons is the English title.”

“Sounds... kind of enticing. What’s the French title?”

“.. _.Les Liaisons dangereuses_.”

If he sounded good in English, the switch to French was positively alluring. I was sold. I may not have a clue of a single word he said, but it didn’t matter. He could tell me my beloved grandmother was on fire in a tree and I’d be seduced.

I watched, enthralled, as he opened the book, my heart pounding as I imagined the exotic syllables flicking off his tongue. His fingers touched the pages delicately, as if they would wither and crumble to dust if he pressed too carelessly.

“Don't expect this to become regular. I'm not a book club, brat.”

I nodded, not trusting anything to come out of my mouth to be anything more than stupid, and glued my attention to him. All of it.

The first lines came dancing off the Corporal's tongue. As expected, I understood none of it – yet I doubted, even if it had been English, I would have understood it any better.

I was fixated on watching his lips move, how they pulled each word off the page and breathed it into life, his tongue curling around the foreign sounds effortlessly. It mesmerized me. I was enraptured by the sound, his voice like music to my soul.

I took the liberty of laying down on the couch, sinking into the softness and it welcoming me eagerly. I closed my eyes and let  his reading take me away, to anywhere it pleased, unhindered by the constraints of language.

 

* * *

 

 

Gradually I came back into myself, unaware of when exactly I'd fallen asleep. The couch was perhaps too comfortable, I was definitely too tired, and the sound of the Corporal reading worked on me like a lullaby. How long was I out for? It was hard to tell, but I'd slept well.

I vaguely recalled the Corporal reading to me, and began to wonder where he was. The room was quiet, the sound of my breathing all there was.

No, wait. That wasn’t my breathing.

I wasn’t alone.

And the heat radiating from my right side wasn’t from a blanket, either.

If I wasn't awake before, I was now. My heart pounded against my ribs, pushing the air out of my lungs and making the task of maintaining my own breathing all the more difficult. If what my mind was telling me was true…

Hah, yeah right. I was still asleep.

How was it possible, then, that the arm draped across my chest was clutching at me tighter?

It wasn’t possible. If I opened my eyes, I’d see for myself the truth. Right.

The first thing I could see was the ceiling, a haze of darkness obscuring my view. I inched my chin down, bringing my view lower, to the end of the couch, up to my feet, and the other pair of feet next to them.

I breathed in sharply, catching the musky aroma of the Corporal’s cologne mixed in with his shampoo. Soap and spice were an odd combination, but I found myself hungry for more of it.

I was afraid the frantic thrum of my heartbeat would wake him; his head rested on my chest, my arm curled around his small shoulders. How we ended up like this, I would never know. There was still time for me to wake up and realize it was all a dream - an absolute classic, if ever there was one.

I wondered how his face looked. Was he still scowling apathetically in his sleep? Or was this the only time the tension around his eyes softened?

Carefully, I squeezed his shoulder. I could feel the blood straining under him, the numbness on the verge of painful. I wasn’t going to move. I was going to stay like this, for as long as humanly possible.

It felt peaceful with him, his warmth mingling with mine. Despite how much I wanted to savour the experience I could feel the lure of sleep tugging at my lids once more, so for the second time that night I fell asleep, only this time I had the Corporal beside me.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oi, you shitty brat. I don't remember inviting you for a sleepover, but it's time you went home.”

My eyes shot open, my body launching itself bolt upright at the sudden barrage of irritable words. For a few seconds I was at a loss, bewildered by where I was. This wasn't my room and that voice certainly wasn't Mikasa's. Even in her most foulest of moods she never sounded quite that rough.

I groaned, rubbing at my eyes. “Where the hell....”

“You're in my apartment.” The Corporal snapped, cutting me short. He was over in the kitchen – I could tell by the sound of cups and plates clinking together. Soon the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea drifted over to me.

“I stayed... all night?” I murmured. I wasn't very with it in the mornings. I was trying to fathom exactly how it happened that I stayed here that long. My body certainly felt like it spent the night on a couch, and I was still wearing the uniform.

Shit. I really didn't go home at all.

Mikasa would be waiting for me. She was expecting me home several hours ago, no doubt stewing with anger, and on top of that I had to _get to fucking school_. I was going to be late. “Shit!”

“Not exactly.” The Corporal came through, tea in hand, sipping at it lightly and watching me as I scrambled to my feet. “You got somewhere you need to be this morning?”

“I do!” I cried, running to the spare bedroom. I stripped the clothes from my body, changing into my normal ones. It felt gross wearing yesterday's outfit, even worse when I hadn't showered. I'd have to rush home, freshen up, grab my books and shoot off to school in the hopes of catching my afternoon classes.

What a fucking mess.

“I can take you to where you need to be.” The Corporal's voice came through the door, a heck of a lot more pleasant than when he first spoke to me. “I understand if you'd rather I didn't take you directly, I can drop you outside your workplace, or nearby.”

 _Workplace_.

My heart gave a dramatic twist at that.

I bit my lip, finished doing my pants up and steeled myself. “Thank you, Sir. But I've imposed on you enough as it is.” I said, opening the door. He was leaning on the wall next to it, arms folded over his chest. 

As I observed him I noticed he, too, was wearing different clothes. It was the first time I ever saw him dressed in what I presumed were _work clothes_. A smart button up shirt, black suit pants, and polished, pointed black shoes. 

_ Where do you work? _

The question sprang up the back of my throat, but I forced it down. He wasn’t in the mood for my questions and I didn’t have the time, either. I still wondered, though, and seeing his suited and booted attire only fed my curiosity. It made me more curious, and more enticed by him.

If my heart kept beating erratically like this I was sure to live a short life. Mikasa would take care of me otherwise, so either way I was screwed.

“It isn't entirely your fault. Now, do you want the lift or not?”

This was breaking every rule in the book. I knew that, even as I nodded my head to him. My being here was off the books, and now I was giving him the address to my house. I was being more than reckless and not a single part of me could care.

The Corporal picked up a set of keys from another room along with a jacket, and guided me out the apartment and into the elevator. It was a surreal feeling, being outside that set of walls with him. My heart thundered noisily as we entered, my palms coated in a fine layer of sweat. I was entering the world beyond with him.

“My car is parked in the basement.” The Corporal said, selecting the appropriate button and answering my question before it even properly formed in my mind. “It's not very inconspicuous. You have no one waiting for you at home, no one who would have missed you last night?”

“Ah, my sister may be around. That's all.” I shrugged, not thinking too much about it. She would probably wipe the floor with me when I got in. Mentally, I groaned. Absolutely nothing about today made me want to leave the Corporal's side.

I caught sight of us in the mirrored walls, stopped myself from gasping as I noted how at odds we looked. I was dressed in my usual t-shirt and jeans, but the Corporal was suited and booted. The fabric was clearly tailored, making his small waist seem even narrower, his legs longer, and shoulders broad.

He looked as if he walked straight off the pages of a glossy magazine.

Even his hair was immaculate – mine most certainly was not.

As casually as I could manage, I tried to straighten the mess out.

“I wouldn't bother.” The Corporal uttered. My cheeks flushed.

“I don't normally look this bad. I make an effort to at least turn up looking nice.”

“That's true.”

Was that a compliment of sorts? I wanted to believe it was. And then my heart bottomed out, knocking the air clean out of my lungs. My cheeks grew darker, and I had to turn my face away from the glass lest he see it.

I hated the way he remained composed beside me, not even a twitch to his eye, unaffected by my presence. I wanted to stir him up how he stirred me.

Yeah. I know.

I would have a better chance of winning the lottery than getting under his skin.

At that thought the elevator doors opened and we stepped out into the garage, the underbelly of the apartment complex. The air down here was chilly, and I instantly found myself missing his apartment.

“Get in.” The Corporal said, surprising me with his sudden command.

The car next to us flashed, unlocking at the push of a button. I realized then what was about to happen. I was going to be in the car with the Corporal. He was going to drive me home.

Holy fuck, I needed to calm down.

It was a damn neat looking vehicle, too. Silver, sleek and obviously expensive.

Personally, I had no clue what make it was (you bet your ass I'd look it up later), but I liked it. The leather seating inside was plush and comfortable, not that I really cared. I was fascinated to witness another part of his life, another aspect of him. It was exciting, my body vibrating. It only got worse when he climbed in next to me.

He looked really hot behind the wheel of an expensive car.

“Ready?” He asked, catching me off-guard yet again. I nodded, not trusting the sound of my voice, and he started the engine. It purred into life. He clutched the steering wheel, and in a series of fluid motions we were out the garage, joining the streams of early morning traffic en route to my place.

School, Mikasa, money. Everything was far away from me as we sat together in that tiny space. All around me were cars, people commuting, rushing here and there. Despite them all, I felt like we were the only two in the world. We were the only ones who mattered.

I couldn't see anyone but him.

“Thanks for taking me home.” I said after a while, when I was sure the spell between us wouldn't be broken. The Corporal was scowling at the traffic, but I thought I saw his face soften ever so slightly when I spoke.

“It's not going to become a habit.”

“It's my first time in a car this expensive.” I commented, eyeing the dashboard. I wanted to touch the smooth surface, but I knew enough about the Corporal to resist getting my dirty fingers on it.

“I'm sure you've seen plenty of expensive places.”

I shrugged. “I guess. Not cars, though.”

I wasn't supposed to climb into stranger's cars, I thought. I also wasn't supposed to see them outside Hange's knowledge, or get their phone numbers. I'd broken so many rules already... whatever would be next?

He fell quiet for a time, and soon I filled in the silence with the odd direction. I didn't live too far, but traffic made it worse. The minutes slipped by me, and I couldn't bring myself to mourn a single one.

“This is it.” I announced, my home in view. “Home sweet home.”

The Corporal leaned forward in his seat, eyeing my home with vacant interest as he pulled up.

“Not bad.” He murmured, sitting back, his eyes landing on me as I scrambled to get out the car.

“Thanks again for last night.” I said, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. It felt like I was departing a lover. “I'll see you next week?”

“You’d better hurry inside. Someone's waiting for you.”

Dread stopped my heart. I knew who he meant before I even looked. I prolonged the moment that reality dumped itself over me like a bucket of cold water, waving like a fool as the Corporal's car faded down the street. All the while, in the back of my head, I felt the two holes burn deeper and deeper into my skull.

With nowhere left to run, I turned to face the house.

_Mikasa._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I promised some of our main pair, and here they are! All cuddly too. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. You're all amazing. See you next time....?


	20. Dinner Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still reading this!
> 
> I only wish my dinner burned as slowly as this fic... ah well. 
> 
> You're still here, and that's all that matters :')
> 
> Happy Birthday to Eren for yesterday!!

Driving off, I glanced in the rear-view mirror the sorry sight of that boy, waving me off like a soldier to war. I tutted to myself, clicking my tongue in agitation as I headed for work.

His _girlfriend_ sure looked pissed, but that was to be expected. It left me feeling uncomfortable, knowing I had kept him away from people who loved him. His insistence that she was his sister didn’t convince me in the slightest.

His personal life was nothing to me. At least, that is how it should be. Still, I couldn’t shift the feeling in my chest that I disturbed his home life, not in the least as a result of my selfishness.

My knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel, my annoyance at myself growing rapidly.

What about this was bothering me to such a degree?

 _Focus, god dammit._ I bumped my palm on the wheel, hopeful the jolt would reverberate up my arm and into my head. If only it could dislodge him from the place in my mind he was occupying, I would beat myself black and blue.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot of Titan Romance's office complex, my inner feelings had tangled themselves into a chaotic mess.

Sorting through them would be like trying to untangle Christmas tree lights straight from the attic – undoubtedly, a few were broken, and the wires leading to them knotted.

I switched the engine off and sat alone in the dim, empty parking lot, doing the worst thing any man could do: _think_. Thinking never resulted in anything particularly good, especially where emotions like this were involved.

What exactly was I feeling? I didn't know, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out, either. I didn’t like it and that was that.

Leaning forward, I rested my head on the steering wheel, weighed down by the mounting questions in my mind. I was losing sight of my purpose behind them all. I was doing this for Erwin. That girl on the boy’s porch was nothing to do with me, or Erwin. I told myself this firmly, so why would the image of her crestfallen face not leave me alone?

As I sat here, cooking in my own frustrations, time slowly ticked on by. The minutes were mounting. I struggled to care. The temptation to drive off and leave today as nothing but a bad memory was overwhelming.

My fingers were clutching at the key, ready to turn the ignition, ready to escort me from my problems. In a matter of minutes I could be out of here. No Erwin and no stupidly attractive young men to worry about. No worried girlfriends left alone all night. No sweaty palms and certainly no school girl heart flutters. I was too old for this shit.

Far too old.

I was too old for a lot of things.

He was probably one of those things.

He was definitely one of those things. Just as well, I wasn’t interested in him.

Damn, I was going to be very late today.

I hated to be late.

It was fuel on the fire of my bad mood and that was ablaze already in full swing.

The receptionist, who always seemed to have internal struggles over whether or not they _should_ say good morning, opted for terrified silence today as I eventually walked by.  I have never seen someone look more grateful for a ringing phone than that guy did today.

I slipped into the elevator, pressed the button for the top floor, and willed myself into a state of enthusiasm with every passing level. I was in no mood to be dealing with hopeless romantics today, but I would damn well act like I was.

Not long and the Christmas campaign would start, a thought that made me groan out loud in displeasure. The elevator was empty at the time, though I would have gladly suffered the odd looks today. I _hated_ Christmas.

“Good afternoon.” Petra was on her feet the second I stepped onto our floor, her notepad already in hand. One of us was ready for work.

“Did I miss anything important?” I muttered as I passed her desk, headed straight for the quiet sanctitude of my office. Of course I missed plenty, I knew that already.

“There was a meeting.” She said, a little hesitantly.

I tutted, dropping my bag down and falling into my chair. It squeaked under the sudden pressure.

“Anything else?”

“Mr. Smith would like for you to join him in his office at the earliest convenience.”

As I allowed myself a moment of discontent, closing and rubbing at my eyes and growling under my breath, I didn't notice what Petra was up to. Opening my eyes, I was greeted with a sympathetic smile and a freshly made cup of tea.

“You look like you could use the caffeine.” She placed the cup down in front of me.

“...Thank you.” I replied, though I don't feel my tone would ever quite convey the level of gratitude I felt in that moment for her.

“I don't think anyone else has seen you come in. You could leave, and I'll tell him you were never here.” Her smile was mischievous, and her words tempting.

I sipped the tea, letting the caffeine sink into my system and giving it a much needed boost.

“That won’t be necessary, Petra.” I waved it off. I was beyond such folly, my days of playing hooky behind me.

We both jumped at the deep rumble of Erwin's voice, though notably Petra more than myself. She excused herself sheepishly and fled my office to hide at her desk, but not before shooting me an apologetic glance.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, the door barely closed before the words were out of his mouth. I was still in the process of appreciating the coffee Petra rushed in for me a few moments earlier.

Not even a time appropriate greeting. This was serious.

“Everything is fine.” I said, trying to mask my irritation. The look on Erwin's face told me how good of a job I did.

“Levi...” Erwin sat down, as if invited to stay, and fixed his concerned look on me. He looked constipated, and judging by how little he was actually saying, I reasoned that to be the case.

I locked eyes with him.

“Petra mentioned a meeting.” I offered, realizing he was too piled up to say it himself. He was normally pretty good at lengthy speeches, talking enough for the both of us on more than the odd occasion. His reluctance to speak now was unnerving.

“Yes, you were supposed to present potential budgets for the upcoming holiday season.” Erwin said, though I could tell he was distracted. He wasn't one to berate me, and this was no telling off.

“You didn't come here to warn me over my tardiness, Erwin. Out with it.” I prompted, losing patience for this game of cat and mouse before it even had a chance to begin.

“I think it would be better to discuss it tonight. The office isn't the place for personal conversations. I've made dinner reservations...”

“Are you inviting me to dinner?”

“I am.”

“Do you make a habit to invite tardy employees to dinner?” I retorted.

Erwin stood up.

I wished he hadn't.

I preferred it when we were both seated, both on the same level. I didn't need his excessiveness rubbed in my face this morning, yet there it was. It was enough to block out the sun and cast a shadow over me.

“I don't. I usually fire them,” Erwin said from over by the door. Was he threatening me? Today, being fired would be a blessing. “I'll pick you up at eight tonight. And Levi,” He turned to look at me, to make sure I was listening. “At least text me if you're not going to be available this time.”

With that, he left.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, wondering what the fuck was happening with my life.

Nothing good, that much was certain.

I sipped at my tea, letting the caffeine sink into my system, and resigned myself to the day ahead. Although half of it was already over, it was still going to be arduous to get through.

I didn't stop for lunch, adamant to make back some of the time.

The financial department's proposal for the upcoming season was lengthy and incredibly dull to read. Petra kept me going with cups of tea intermittently, and at one point even a doughnut materialized on my desk. Trust her to know of my secret sweet tooth.

My head was moments from colliding with the desk when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Brows knitting together curiously, I took my phone out and checked.

_Unknown number – text message._

That was beneath the three texts from Erwin and the two missed calls from last night.

I cleared those off my screen along with the guilt that settled over me and opened the text from the unknown sender.

 

 

 

> **Unknown:**
> 
> _Hey, I kno u said not 2 txt unless emergency but I had 2 kno u were ok_
> 
> _U werent 2 l8? Im so srry_

 

 

It took me a few moments longer than I was willing to admit to decipher the message. I knew then exactly where it had crawled out from.

An English lesson may be in order for our next meeting, I mused. School certainly did nothing to teach this kid anything.

“Sorry to disturb you, Levi...” Petra entered the office, her head peering around the door. “I have the documents you requested.”

“Thanks,” As casually as I could I put my phone down, trying to hide the sense of embarrassment that washed over me from being caught with it. Damn, I felt like my teacher was about to haul my ass for not paying attention.

Petra placed the large file on my desk, looking as apologetic as always. No, that wasn't it. There was a glimmer in her eye.

“What is it?” I asked.

She hesitated, glancing away from me. “May I say something?”

“Of course.”

“...She must be really cute.”

“Who?” I asked, bewildered. Where the fuck had that come from?

“The girl you're texting.” She leant forward, dropping her voice. “Or is it a him? Either way, I've never seen you with such a bashful look on your face.”

My mouth hung open but for a moment before I remembered to keep my composure. “It's neither.”

Petra's smile widened. “You don't have to tell me any details.”

“There are no details _not_ to tell.” I insisted, my patience thinning.

“Your secret is safe with me.” She tapped her nose. “I'll be at my desk if you need anything else.”

She closed the door quietly behind her, giving me no chance to berate her. The exchange left me feeling oddly violated.

I looked at my phone again. My hand traced the line of my lips as I stared at the message he sent me. I wasn’t smiling.

 _Shitty little brat._  


 

* * *

 

In the evening, Erwin came by my place as promised. I heard the gentle whine of the car's brakes and checked my watch. It was eight o’clock exactly. He texted me half an hour ago to ensure I was going, something telling me he was still upset at the lack of response I gave him last night. Not that I could blame him, nor did I, for feeling as he did.

“Ah, there you are. You look nice.” Erwin said as I climbed into the passenger seat. “Hungry?”

I clicked the seat belt into place and Erwin pulled out. “I could go for something to eat.”

He chuckled at that. “I'm taking you to that nice little Italian place I mentioned a while ago. It's quiet, not many people.”

I nodded, silently appreciating the forethought.

I would have preferred staying at home. I liked to cook. I liked to be in my own space, especially after a long day of work. Regardless, I owed Erwin some of my time. That wasn't entirely fair to say; I liked spending time with him, tonight would be no different, even if I wouldn't like all of what he needed to say.

When we got to the restaurant, he held the door open for me and gestured me inside.

“Reservation for Smith,” Erwin said to the neat looking man standing at the podium. The name was found and we were lead to our seats, a quiet table near the window. To call it quiet was superfluous; there were only two other couples seated, and they too were spread by some distance.

Menus were brought over and our drink orders placed. As Erwin was driving, he opted for a sparkling water while I ordered myself a glass of wine.

“How have things been lately?” Erwin asked, eyes on the menu. His bushy brows almost connected as he concentrated, searching for something that took his fancy. I quickly decided on Lasagne Bolognese, giving the cursive text one last check lest something else caught my eye. It didn't.

“They've been fine. Nothing unusual.”

“Except you not answering your phone all evening. Or the-” Erwin cut himself off as the waiter placed our drinks carefully down, retrieving his notepad from his waist and clicking his pen.

“Are you ready to order, gentlemen?”

“I'll have the Lasagne Bolognese, please.”

Erwin hesitated, shuffling through the menu one last time. “Eggplant Parmesan for me, thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Our orders collected, the waiter took the menus and hurried off.

I sipped my wine, gazing out the window at the passersby, wishing there were more people to watch. I enjoyed people watching, from the safety behind a glass wall, where I knew no one would approach.

“As I was saying. You didn't even answer the door. Where were you?”

“I went out for a while.” I dodged, taking another sip of wine. “I wasn't expecting you.”

“Clearly. I did call you, a few times.” Erwin said, sounding a little dejected.

I sighed. “I wasn't near my phone.”

“I ascertained that much,” He smiled, if only as a visual gesture, “I missed your company.”

“Could you not cope an evening without me?” I teased, hiding the heavy tug in my chest. It didn't make sense why I was feeling – what _was_ it I was feeling? - guilt, I think. I felt guilty.

“Would it help my case if I said no?”

“Not really.” I fired back. “I don't know why you still try.”

“I told you. I'll keep telling you; until you give me a definite no, I'll always fight for a chance.”

“What if I can never give you want you want? How many years has it been now, Erwin?”

He shook his head, determined as ever he was. “You know I don't care about that.” He leaned forward, voice dropping low. “If I could just... hold you, that would be enough.”

“You know it's impossible.” I paused. Was it? Was it really that impossible?

What had I been doing these past few months with the boy? I'd even hugged him myself.

I ran the scenario through my mind, first with Scout, and then with Erwin. I tried to imagine myself in Erwin's arms, loved by him. I couldn't do it. My mind phased it out like static on the TV, crackling and fuzzing until I was forced to switch it off.

“At least I can get you to agree to dinner, if nothing else.” Erwin sat back, sipping at his wine and not once taking his eyes off me. I wondered if he feared to do so, lest I suddenly vanish into thin air.

Or bolt for the door.

Alas, I remained seated. For the time being.

“I admire your tenacity.” I said. It was true, at least. He was certainly tenacious, and I felt bad for not having yet given in to him. He didn't pressure, or back me into corners. He was, and probably always would be, waiting patiently in the shadows, ready to step out into the light should I ever extend my hand to him. Could I do it?

I found myself staring down at my hand, fingers coiled around the glass of wine.

His, too, were on the table, neatly folded in front of him. The familiar swell of anxiety rose in me, choking me slowly as I played through the steps of touching him.

I often thought like this. It was like I was testing myself, to see if I was ready to let go of this foolish resistance. Some part of me wanted to resolve this, so that I could feel normal, so that I could be loved. The only one stopping it was me. Why was it near impossible for me to give up? Scout, on the other hand…

...It was easy.

Because I didn't know him?

It was hard to say.

I opted not to touch him. No surprises there. My fingers remained clasped around the glass stem as though letting go would hurl me off some invisible cliff.

“I'm trying.” I uttered, wondering if it was loud enough for him to hear. “I'm working on it.”

“Is that so? You're seeing someone about it?”

I nodded. He looked relieved somehow, a glimmer of hope glistening in his eyes. My chest felt heavy again, seeing that.

“How's that working for you?”

“I'm not sure. Too soon to tell.”

The food arrived, cutting our conversation short for the moment. I breathed deeply the aroma of our dishes, which was both homely and comforting. It looked equally exquisite and inviting, my stomach crying out to be filled.

Erwin had outdone himself once more.

I considered him to be a connoisseur of fine food and drink. A walking encyclopedia of the finest places to dine in the area – probably anywhere. He seemed always to know where to go; there was never a bad meal when he chose the restaurant.

After the first mouthful Erwin decided to continue our conversation. “I'm really glad to hear you're seeing someone about it. For your own sake, I hasten to add.”

I nodded appreciatively, my mouth full of melting cheese and spiced mince. It truly was divine food. “Don't expect me to jump into bed with you anytime soon.” I said between mouthfuls.

It looked as though Erwin nearly choked on his own food, not expecting the comment from me. He should be used to my bluntness by now.

“You know it was never about _that_. Not for me. Not ever.” He looked over the rim of his wine glass at me, gauging my reaction.

“I still can't promise you anything, Erwin. I don't even know if I can feel that way; toward you, toward anyone.” I admitted. Words I'd spoken a thousand times before, one way or another. I wanted to change it.

I wanted to give him what he wanted. He was like a loyal dog, forever waiting to be allowed to eat the treat resting on his nose. By this point in our lives I probably didn't need to say it.

He knew.

But for fear of misleading him, I always made a point to say it.

The conversation edged toward lighter topics as we drank and finished our meals. I was a little sad to come to the end of my plate, and downed the last of my wine in its place.

“Shall I take you home? I'm assuming you don't have room for dessert.” Erwin chuckled, gesturing to my wiped clean plate. At my returning scowl he hailed the waiter and settled the bill, waving off my protest to at least pay half by saying, “I invited you. Therefore it's my turn to pay.”

“Thank you. It was delicious.” I said, easing myself into the passenger side.

A moment later and Erwin was beside me. “The pleasure was mine. I'd like to take you out like this more often, you know. “

“That could work.” I agreed. “Just not on Wednesdays.”

“Ah. You have other plans then?”

“Yeah.” I was staring out the window, admiring the lights as they whizzed by, sometimes catching my own thoughtful reflection. I was musing over my sessions with Scout, and the combined possibility of getting physical with Erwin. If I was being honest with myself, the idea didn't appeal. I was completely switched off, not even so much as a tingling of arousal budding at the thought.

That never changed. It was as though the switch was permanently stuck, irreparably so.

All through my teenage years it was that way, and straight into adulthood.

But I knew the _brat_ was changing me.

The reasons I’d hired him in the first place... it was almost amusing. How history repeats itself, one way or another.

Last night was proof of such changes. Of my own volition I took the small space beside him on the couch, pressing against him and sharing his warmth. It was the best sleep I'd had in forever.

“Here we are.” Erwin announced, breaking my reverie.

My house.

“Thanks,” I said, unbuckling the seat belt and casting a glance to the man beside me. He was regarding me, too, and our eyes met. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, Levi.”

I got out the car and trudged up to my front door, nodding my head in Erwin's direction before entering. I slipped my shoes off, placing them neatly on the rack beside the door. My keys dropped into the dish on the table above the shoe rack, and I hung my jacket on the peg.

I heard Erwin's car pull away, and made my way to the kitchen to make tea. I wanted to read awhile before I slept, and tea was the perfect drink to wind down the evening with. It wasn't often I felt my age, but tonight was certainly one of those times. I may as well invest in some tartan slippers and a dressing gown, pop my teeth out in a jar beside the bed, and wave my walking stick angrily at people on my lawn.

As the kettle boiled, I picked up my phone. I quickly scrolled the contacts with my thumb, reaching _B_ and selecting the only entry under it. I fired off a text quickly, briefly checking the time before sending it. It was a little after 10pm. I'd be surprised if he was asleep already, what with the hours I presumed a guy like him kept.

The reply came in just as fast, moments later as I was pouring the hot water. I left my phone unanswered for the time, finishing up making the beverage and carrying it through to the bedroom. I put the tea down on a coaster on the bedside cabinet, and looked at my phone.

 

 

 

> **Levi:**
> 
> _Hey, Brat._
> 
> _Interested in earning a little extra this week?_
> 
>  
> 
> **Brat:**
> 
> s _ure_
> 
> _wuz worried u were angry about my txt earlier lol_  
> 

 

 

I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. I would teach this kid to text properly one day.

I unbuttoned my shirt and placed it in the hamper, followed by the rest of my clothes. Once I was in slacks I lay down on my bed, phone in hand, another message sent.

My phone dinged again shortly after, and I found myself relieved to find he was attentive in his response times, even if his grammar was painfully lacking.

 

 

 

> **Levi:**
> 
> _Tomorrow evening, from seven_
> 
> _All night – Can you manage that?_

> **Brat:**
> 
> _ill bring a toothbrush_
> 
> _n e thing else?_

 

 

By now his text speak was grinding my nerves. I wrapped the conversation up, asking him to bring some suitable nightwear and other toiletries, and left it at that. He didn't reply, so I only assume he got the hint.

I sipped my tea, and contemplated in silence my motives for suddenly inviting him over for the entire night. I'd only seen him Wednesday, and technically earlier today. The impromptu sleepover then was purely by accident. One I wasn't too upset over, Erwin's pissy behavior at my absence aside. Now I was deliberately inviting him back.

I'm hesitant to admit it.  
  
There's something about that boy that has me hooked. If he was the key to unlocking things with Erwin, then it was a venture worth pursuing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no-one thinks I dislike Erwin. I love him to pieces, and I hope I am doing his complex character justice.
> 
> Alas, I do require him for a bit of heart break. Your thoughts and opinions, are as ever, always welcome. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your continued support. I will hopefully see you next week!
> 
> Oh, one last thing:  
> My editor totally freaked over Eren's texting, but I insisted it remain. I hope it didn't burn your eyes too badly...


	21. Lazy Little Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a little ill the last week or so, so I'm sorry if this isn't quite up there. I am exhausted.
> 
> Thanks for coming back for another chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

I was certain by now that criminals weren't interrogated as harshly as I was.

It started with Mikasa. She was kind enough to offer me a ride to school. I should have realized sooner it was nothing more than a ruse to press me for details on the night before. 

By the time I noticed her plan, it was too late. The locks on the door clicked into place. I was stuck with nowhere to go. Could I signal to passers-by for help? Would they even pay attention?

“ Next time you decide to stay out all night, at least have the consideration to let someone know.” Mikasa began, her tone deep in parent-mode. The one that made me feel like I was six years old again.

“ I'm sorry. I didn't plan on it...” I mumbled, looking guiltily down at my lap where my fingers fidgeted uneasily.

“ You're old enough to do as you please, Eren. It's just a safety thing. I was worried about you.”

“ I'm sorry.”

“ Who was he?” She asked, her eyes pointedly on the road. I glimpsed her face, attempting to read her expression. It was like reading a foreign language; the answer was there, I just didn't have the knowledge to interpret it.

“ Who was who?” 

“ The old guy in the flashy car.”

“Oh… uh… no one special. Just a friend.” Yes, because that wasn’t remotely suspicious.

“Is that so.” She said flatly. I could easily tell she was already poking holes in my fabrication. I tried to steady my breathing, to convince my heart it perhaps didn’t have to beat quite that erratically. 

“Is that where you were last night?”

Shit. I couldn’t remember what I’d told her.  This was bad. 

The entire sentence was a trap and my foot was a hair’s breadth from being ensnared. Even my hesitation was enough to cast doubt over whatever I said next.

It was too early for this shit.

“Yeah, I stayed at his place.” Was that the right answer?

“Eren. I know I’m not your parent, and I’m  not trying to be. But you need to get your priorities in order. Staying out all night when you have school the next day…”

“I know, I know. It wasn’t intentional.” I cut her off, rubbing my eyes with my fingers in frustration. I know she meant well, of course she meant well. I just didn’t want to hear what I already knew.

“Did you miss work to go to his place?”

“I…” 

There it was. The lie I’d told. About going to work. The important factor I failed to remember. 

_ Shit. _

If there was any sliver of luck in the world for me, it was spent entirely on the fact that we were now in the parking lot. Guilt weighed me into my seat, leaving me desperately digging for a suitable answer to tell her.

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could offer; my apologies for being such a shitty brother. 

“ Be home this weekend. I want to spend some time with you.”

“I promise!” I said earnestly, leaning across the car to kiss her cheek. “I better go, but I absolutely swear I will be home all weekend for you.”

How easily I said those words.

 

* * *

 

 

At lunch, Armin seemed a little strange. Though I was sure I was projecting my own sorry emotional state onto him, I couldn’t shake the feeling he was behaving differently. Jean, on the other hand, looked as though he was chewing a mouthful of wasps. Not an improvement on his usual expression. I think I liked it better how it normally was.

“What’s up with you two?” I asked, setting my tray down and sliding into an empty seat. The three of us having lunch was a regular thing these days, one I’d come to accept somewhat reluctantly. 

Seeing Jean’s equine features on a daily basis was too much for anyone - well, except for Armin, I guess. For whatever reason, he was quite taken by Jean. I still struggled to work out what exactly he saw, because there was no way we were seeing the same guy. 

“I’m stressed about exam season,” Armin admitted, “It’s not that far off and my study schedule is already crammed.”

“Oh.” I said, thinking about my own exams. They never mattered particularly to me. Did they matter to me now? I couldn’t be sure. My own future was a murky mess, one I preferred not to think about if I could help it. “That sucks.”

“You need to study as well.” Armin prompted. 

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ll fit it in somewhere.”

“Skipping class won’t help…”

“I already had the  _ Ackerman Lecture _ .” I said, taking the biggest bite out of my sandwich as my mouth would allow. I felt like a snake, dislocating its jaw to fit the food. I did it out of annoyance, but now I had to sit and chew my way through it, which served only to irritate me further. 

“Mikasa was worried sick about you.” Jean said, helpfully. He folded his arms, his own lunch finished before I even arrived, judging by the orange peel. “You shouldn’t make her worry like that.”

I preferred him when his mouth was full of wasps. Now they were coming out to sting me, and I was ready with the swatter. “None of your business.” I said through my mouthful.  _ Swat. _

He sucked air through his teeth at my reply. “I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at, Yeager.”

“Jean, please…” Armin’s tone was warning, severe enough to make me look up, catching the silent exchange between them that followed. I was used to Jean losing his cool with me over nothing, but the two were acting strange together. 

What the hell was going on here…?

Had I found myself caught between an argument? Or was this really Armin worrying too much over me?

“I missed a couple of classes,” I tried to blow it off as nothing, which to me, was exactly what it was. “I can make it up easily enough.”   


“It’s not that… Mikasa... She was waiting up all night.” Armin spoke carefully, imploring me with his eyes to understand. 

“I didn’t mean to make anyone worry.” I mumbled, guilt flooding through me.

“We care about you, Eren.” Armin said, “Of course we’re going to worry. When you didn’t come back from work, Mikasa was worried for your safety.”

“You know how Armin worries.” Jean muttered, staring off to the side, his folded arms twitching. 

“I wasn’t…. At work.” I looked down at my half-eaten food, wishing some colossal being would reach down, scoop me up, and swallow me whole, if only to end my ongoing misery. Armin would find out soon enough about my lie. I felt it better if I told him directly, before it had the chance to fester.

“You weren’t? Mikasa said-”

“I told her I was going to work. I… I lied.”

“Where did you go?” He pressed.

I chewed on my lip. “I stayed at a friend’s place.”

“You mean, you were out getting some while Mikasa was worried sick?” Jean interjected, unable to hold himself back from that one. 

“It wasn’t like that.” My teeth were clenched so hard I feared they’d crumble. 

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Armin asked. Always one to ask the proper questions, unlike  _ someone _ .

“Because I… I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d end up staying over. If I hadn’t overslept…”

“We’d be none the wiser.” Armin concluded, voice low, his eyes boring into me. I was getting a little uncomfortable by the intensity of his gaze. 

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t the case. Armin valued honesty, and I was anything but honest these days. As much as I wanted to be, it was impossible. Either way, I was seemingly risking my friendship with him - and that terrified me. 

Was there still time to repair some of this mess? I could only hope.

“If it wasn’t such a big deal, then why lie in the first place?” Jean asked.

“I didn’t want Mikasa trapping me at home. God damn, Jean. It’s  _ my _ business.”

“Are you cheating on Hange?” Armin surprised me with that.

I shook my head, furrowing my brows. “N-No, I’m not.”

_ Because I’m not dating Hange _ . Where had that conclusion come from in the first place?

“Eren,” Armin began, but nothing else followed. I could see on his face how he struggled with an internal issue, and my mind raced to conclude what it could be. I wanted him to be able to tell me. Thinking that, the hypocrisy wasn’t lost on me. 

How could I expect him to lay everything out on the table, when I wouldn’t the same? Still, the realization he was keeping something back was hurtful.

I guess this was how I’d made him feel all those times, and even now.

“I’m sorry, Armin. I didn’t think she’d find out.”

Armin shook his head sadly. Clearly, my response was not the one he hoped to hear from me.

He was disappointed in me,  I could tell. In that moment it dawned on me there would be no hope of me ever telling him the truth of what I did; if I valued his friendship at all, it would be a secret until the day I died.

Armin seemed to know what I was thinking, his next words ringing out to me like a signal. “Eren… whatever it is that’s going on with you, it’s better that you share it with us. Mikasa and I… we’re always going to be there for you. Whatever it is.”

If only it were that easy.

I smiled faintly. “Thanks, Armin. I’ll keep that in mind. I promise, next time I won’t hide where I’m going.” My heart gave a guilty twinge, twisting painfully with every word. How easily I managed to say it, too, was cause for concern. 

Armin accepted that response, and thankfully he let it drop. I took this opportunity to excuse myself from the lunch room, saying my goodbyes to Armin and Jean and sauntering outside to be alone. Today had been non-stop, and I was in serious need of some relaxation. 

The atmosphere with Armin being too tense, it was better I spent the remainder of lunch alone with my thoughts. There was much I needed to process following last night and this morning, and I hadn’t had the chance to contemplate any of it. 

The talk with Armin was sitting on top of the rest of the shit I needed to work my way through, adding to the mire of unsorted thoughts.

Where the fuck do I begin?

Like a sensible, prioritizing adult, I put the unpleasant things to one side and instead focused on the pleasant aspects of the day - namely, waking up in the Corporal’s apartment.

It was all still a bit hazy, but that was a memory I wouldn’t be able to forget so soon even if I wanted to. Though it wasn’t how I had started to imagine waking up with him would be, it was definitely a start. The resulting fallout in my personal life was also unforeseen. 

If Mikasa wasn’t around, it never would have been an issue. Well, it wouldn’t have been quite the issue it turned out to be; I would simply brush it off as oversleeping at home. 

By now, my aimless wandering brought me to the front of the building, where only a select few students hung about. I sat myself down on the steps leading into the building.

I wasn’t the only one inconvenienced. The Corporal would be late to his work. Did he make it on time? 

I really wanted to know. 

My phone was in my palm before it registered that I'd even reached for it. The Corporal’s number was highlighted, waiting patiently as I struggled within myself. Was it okay to message him?  I just... wanted to know I hadn't fucked his day up as badly as I had my own. 

Was his work pissed at him being late? Did he miss an important meeting? Did he even have a boss? He didn't strike me as the type to bow down and obey others. That wasn't him. He was a  _ rule breaker _ , for sure. A rebel. If he was late, no one was going to tell him off for it.

To say I didn't  _ expect  _ a response would be true, however to say I didn't  _ want _ one would be a lie. I stared at my phone. Somehow I’d typed out a message and managed to hit send. All that was left for me to do was wait for a response that may never come. 

I heaved my body off the wall, dusting off my backside and heading towards my final class moments before the bell tolled, my phone glued to my hand.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re… you’re going back?” 

“I’ve overstayed as it is. If you’re going to sulk, you could always reconsider and come with me.”

I shook my head, looking away from Mikasa to her half-filled suitcase. I’d come home from school not long ago to find her things vanishing; her jacket that she always slung over the back of the couch before sitting herself down, for example. 

Soon, her keys would  no longer be on the little table in the hallway, along with her shoes, and then I would know for sure I was alone.

It was a painful thought, one I pushed fiercely away. 

“When are you going? Not tonight? Or tomorrow?”

“I’m leaving on Sunday. I planned to finish out the week.” Mikasa carried on folding up her clothes as she spoke. I noted the spare clothes she kept neatly folded to one side, no doubt for her to wear in the days ahead, few though they were. 

The news of her leaving, albeit not a surprise, still left me reeling. I’d grown comfortable with someone else in the house. 

I’d be lonely without her.

“Sunday…” I repeated, more to myself than anything. “...I’ll invite Armin over, on Saturday, if you like? The three of us together.” 

I thought of our heated conversation at lunchtime. He seemed better when it came to dropping me home, though I could still taste the foul betrayal of my own lies as we talked lightly. Would it be like that on Saturday?  

“That would be nice.” She said, offering one of her small smiles. To anyone else, it would be easy to miss. To me it was clear, and it warmed me to see it. Damn, I really was going to miss her. 

“I’ll make sure my schedule is clear. I’m…” I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and tried again, “I may be out a bit over the weekend, but I promise I’ll be home Saturday.”

“Is that so?” Her fingers hesitated in their folding. “ Is this  _ work _ or are you going to tell me the truth this time?”

I winced at her tone. There was no helping it. She had every right to be pissed at me for lying. Knowing that didn’t make it easier for me. “I don’t know exactly, yet. I may be at a friend’s.”

“Ah. The one who dropped you off this morning.”

“...Maybe?”

“Do you often hang out with considerably older men?”

“He’s not  _ that _ much older.” I sounded defensive, scrunching my nose up with distaste. What hurt more was the unknowing accuracy of her words. Mikasa and Armin alike seemed to have an uncanny ability to touch the truth without seeing it for themselves. 

“Old enough to drive an expensive car and house you twice in one week. Is he your sugar daddy or something?”

_ Mikasa, please. Stop this.  _

“No!” 

Not exactly. 

Did I manage the right amount of incredulity in my tone? Not too much or too little? Was that the right way to respond? 

I summoned the courage to peek at Mikasa, only to find she had abandoned the notion of packing completely, her steely eyes on me. I shivered. 

“Your boyfriend?”

“No. Mikasa-”

“Just a friend?”

“Y-yeah, just a friend.”

“Does your friend have a name?”

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. _

I couldn’t very well tell her he was called Corporal.

I was certain from her line of questioning she already had some weird notion of what we were - which, in all fairness, wasn’t wrong. My relationship with him was complicated enough as it was without me trying to slap a label on the top of it or, worse, trying to explain it to someone else. 

Yes, he’s the guy I snuggle with for a couple of hours a night for a couple hundred dollars.

In the midst of my mental sarcasm, I was struck with a memory, one I would rather not remember in front of my sister. I could feel my cheeks hotting up as I recalled the Corporal wrapped around me, deep in slumber. My body tingled as if bringing the memory to life, but I remained strangely cold in that moment. 

“Eren? Eren?” Mikasa’s voice broke me from my reverie. I had yet to respond to her, content as I was in my mind with the Corporal.

“Sorry… what?” I asked, too lost in my mind to follow the conversation we’d been having. My heartbeat was erratic, setting the rest of my vitals off course. Just like that, the Corporal left me breathless and he wasn’t even here. How was this even possible? Was this how Jean made Armin feel? It was a little frightening. 

“I asked if he had a name… are you feeling okay?” She pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You’re warm. Fever?”

“No…? I just zoned out. I think I’m tired.”

“Go rest. I’ll make dinner for you a little later.”

I complied, crossing the hallway and escaping into my own room. Quietly I closed the door, resting my head against it. I was grateful she didn’t press the issue. My mind was hazy, fogged up with the realization that the Corporal had fallen asleep in my arms. How he came to be there I couldn’t say, and although he was gone by the time I woke up, I was certain I hadn’t dreamed it. 

There was no way my imagination was good enough to procure the gentle heat of his body, the touch of his hair as it tickled my chin, the occasional twitch of his fingers as he wandered unseeing through his dreams. What had he dreamed about, I wondered, whilst curled up in my arms? Were they pleasant dreams? 

I hoped they were. I wanted an excuse to offer him, to tempt him into letting me hold him like that again. While it was a mystery how exactly it happened the first time, I was sure I wanted it to happen more than once. Would the promise of peaceful sleep lead him back to me?

What the fuck was I thinking? 

Sighing heavily I trudged to my bed and slumped down on my mattress, ringing my fingers through my hair in frustration. My first time feeling this way just had to be with someone so impossible to work out, so impossible to… to what? What did I want from this, exactly?

I wanted to be close to him. For as long as possible, for as long as he would allow me to be, I wanted that much at least. Anything more than that was impossible. I knew this.

I knew this, and yet it didn’t stop me screaming into my pillow with delight when the Corporal finally texted me back, some hours later. I’d fallen asleep, my mind exhausted with the endless cycle of thoughts milling around, all fixated on the Corporal. I woke with a start, the daylight outside gone and a two texts on my phone - one from Mikasa, the other him.

Mikasa’s I read quickly, eager to move onto his. Dinner was in the fridge for whenever I wanted it. I didn’t want food. I was likely to throw up from anticipation. I tried uselessly to stop my hand from shaking as I opened his message.  I’d been waiting all day for this. Now it was finally here, my first text conversation with him. Was I ready?

Fuck, no. 

I was much less ready for what he was asking of me. So rarely did our wishes come true, and even rarer so soon after the wish was made. Someone in the cosmos was listening to me, and whether it was a trick to watch me fail or a genuine helping hand, only time would tell. 

Ah, I definitely wasn’t going to sleep tonight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, your comments and kudos mean the world to me. I'm very interested in your thoughts!
> 
> I hope to see you next time...!


	22. A Good Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Ah, thank you for coming back. I hope you're still enjoying it.
> 
> Shout out to my new friend B. They've been amazing on feedback and encouragement and I've thoroughly enjoyed the week we've known each other. I now have two friends :')
> 
> As ever, please leave your comments! I love reading and responding to you all.

I was a wreck.  

Turning my alarm off was near impossible, and far worse was forcing my body out of bed. I had not slept a wink, and my body was sure as hell not letting that fact get by me. My muscles, including those I didn’t even know existed until now, ached.

Everything… ached.

With a loud groan of utter dismay that morning was now upon me, I threw the cover off in a desperate bid to force myself to move.

Somehow, laying here cold and blanketless was proving a more inviting option than a warm shower. Regardless of what I wanted, however, time continued to tick by without my consent. What a dick.

Groaning even louder, I heaved my legs over the side of the bed and, with much effort, dragged myself into a standing position. A yawn upon my lips and a hand scratching an itch under my shirt, I headed for the bathroom. Ignoring the diminishing toiletries that belonged to Mikasa, I bent over the sink and splashed my face with cold water, once, twice, three times.

I was going to spend the entire night with the Corporal.

Four times I splashed my face with cold water, slapping my cheeks until they stung. They would have been rosy if all the blood didn’t drain from my face. I was anxious about what tonight meant exactly.

 I doubted it meant sex; did I want it to, though?

For a guy who slept around for a living, I was sure as hell nervous about this particular time. Then again, the Corporal was not comparable to any of my previous experiences, maybe even my future ones, and in more ways than one that was true.

My shower was warm enough for me to step into and still I lingered in front of the sink, staring at my reflection as if looking into the void. I looked terrified. Throwing my shirt and pants on the floor I stepped under the water, dousing myself with water before reaching for the shampoo. He liked fragrance-free. I reached for the unscented stuff instead.

I washed my hair twice.

I’d shower tonight when I got in from school, but just in case I wanted to get myself as clean as possible now. I lathered the soap onto my skin three times, scrubbing harder than usual. I checked under my nails. And my toenails.

Once showered, I lightly dried myself off and, I will admit, used a moisturizer all over my body. I still didn’t think we’d have sex, but it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared for such an outcome - just in case he was feeling particularly adventurous, I wanted to be as irresistible as I could be. I may be getting a _little_ ahead of myself with my line of thinking here.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be ready for anything.

When my body was more thoroughly cleansed than I could honestly say it ever was, I finally switched off the water and stepped out. I wasn’t feeling refreshed, but damn I was clean enough to eat off of (something I had genuinely experienced. Once. Once was enough).

By the time I was climbing in the passenger seat of Armin’s car, there was a definite bounce to my step. I was feeling good, my nervousness alleviating long enough for the adrenaline to kick in.

“You seem happy today.” Armin said, smiling himself as he pulled into the morning traffic.

“I think I’m in for a good night.” I replied, unable to keep the smile from my own face. It was too powerful, the joy literally pulling on my lips until I had no choice but to let it beam.

“Are you going to stay out again?”

“I am.”

“Does Mikasa know?”

“She does. I made sure this time.”

Armin nodded. “Make sure you’re safe.”

His question caught me slightly off-guard, but I shrugged it off. Armin was a worrier, and he was doing just that; worrying about me.

“I promise I’ll be fine.” I said, glancing over at him.

Soon, my hectic day of school would begin. As usual, I wasn’t overly in the mood to be educated. My mind was far away, busy planning out scenarios and potential events of the evening. It was impossible to keep my mind focused on anything for long, anything that is, that wasn’t the Corporal.  

And his apartment.

And the bed we would be sharing.

Together.

_Calm down, Yeager. Breathe. Relax the grip on your pen before you break it in half._

_Or Shadis notices._

_Shadis._

My stomach twisted as I looked up from my desk, Shadis’ imposing figure nowhere to be seen. 

The class was deathly quiet, all eyes staring dead ahead at the board. Even Reiner’s hulking mass was attempting to look small. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and held fast onto my bladder.

“Have you decided to join us for the remainder of the lesson, Yeager?” Shadis asked in his quietest, calmest voice of all. The one that really fucked you up.

I slowly nodded, unable to summon the courage to speak or to look behind me.

“That’s nice of you. Since it’s  my job to beat something in that goddamn empty brain of yours by the time you leave this place, let’s not make that any harder than it already is.”

Shadis’ calm voice was the worst of all. His bellowing, vein popping bouts of distilling knowledge was a comfort at this stage. Anything less indicated danger, and I could still feel my hand shaking as I attempted to make notes and pay attention.

Did the Corporal suffer education like this? It seemed to me he would thrive from it - maybe he went through the same rigorous methods as Shadis. I wonder what he studied? He was clearly educated, much smarter and more intelligent than I could ever be. Somewhere in his apartment I’m sure he kept his multitude of degrees. What was his major? Something really interesting. I should try and ask hi-

“Eren Yeager!”

The sound of my pen snapping filled the silence following his booming voice.

 

* * *

 

 

By lunchtime, I’d learned the grand total of nothing. Not through lack of trying, mind you.

I skimmed the conversation with Armin and Jean, barely able to pay attention to them either, and finally, after one more absurdly long class, it was time to go home.

“Have fun!” Armin called from the car, moments before I closed the door. I waved him off before dashing up the path to my front door. My fingers were shaking, making getting the key into the lock near impossible. I managed it on the fourth attempt, stumbling through the door and kicking my shoes off.

“Hey, Mikasa!” I yelled, not knowing where in the house she was. I didn’t have time to find out. I took the stairs two at a time and dived straight into the bathroom, wondering where the hell I should start with myself. I needed to shave, wash, sort my hair, find an outfit for the night. Put together a bag of things to take with me.

I repeated my morning routine with finesse, refining and paying particular attention to the little details that I didn’t have the time for earlier. I wanted every corner of my being cleansed, to be soft to the touch and completely irresistible.

Not a single hair could be out of place. I wanted to present myself as the epitome of perfection, as the cute boy next door you couldn’t help but want to invite back to your place. My innocence may have long since been wasted, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t fake it. I guess I was still hoping that somehow, in a few hours from now, that the Corporal would find me so alluring he’d drag me straight to his room and have his way with me.

Or I with him - I wasn’t entirely sure which way that would go, not that I minded being on top or the bottom.

I was locked in the bathroom for an hour.

The following two hours after that were spent throwing clothes around my bedroom in search of the perfect outfit to wear. The perfect outfit that was clean. I settled on some tight fitting black jeans, the ones that made my ass look like it belonged in a magazine, combined with a black t-shirt. Simple, but effective. I added a silver chain to break it up.

Up next was my hair.

It was getting kind of long and in need of trimming, but it wasn’t completely out of style. Running my fingers through it, I ended up with a slightly smarter take on my usual messed up aesthetic. I used a small amount of product to keep it in place, but otherwise I avoided adding anything more. I knew the Corporal liked it natural and that was what he was going to get.

My last task was to sort the overnight bag.

I didn’t want to overpack, but underpacking could be equally as fatal. I slipped a change of underwear, shirt and socks into a small leather pouch, and fetched my toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom.  A couple of extra items thrown in and I was done.

Just in time.

The cab was waiting for me, signalling its arrival with a curt honk of the horn. I never knew that simple sound could be so frightening. For a moment I couldn’t breathe, my body rigid as I sat on the edge of my bed.

 _I_ _can do this. I’ve done this kind of thing a thousand times before. This is no different._

Steeling myself, I carefully made my way down the stairs and into the waiting car.

 

* * *

 

I was a little disappointed that, despite all the effort I put into choosing this outfit, no sooner had I stepped into the apartment, the Corporal motioned me to the spare room to change. I did as I was told, of course, placing my hastily thrown-together overnight bag on the bed and changing quickly into the clothes he laid out for me. I always meant to ask him about the meaning of this uniform, and somehow I always ended up forgetting.

One day, before our time inevitably came to its natural end, I would find the answer to my questions.

“What’s the schedule for tonight, Sir?” I asked, stepping out of the spare room, bag in hand. “Is there somewhere I should put this?”

“What did you bring?” He asked, glancing up at me from his chair. “I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t a girly sleepover.”

I laughed nervously, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “I know that. It’s just the basics; toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, uh...underwear for the morning…” I was blushing.

Why was I blushing over underwear? I needed to pull myself together, pronto. Yet as I tried to grab ahold of all my fraying nerves it seemed only to make it worse. I didn’t dare tell him about the condoms and lubricant I’d stuffed in the bottom of the bag.

My voice would crack so badly windows would shatter, dogs would bark and airplanes would be forced from the sky should I attempt those two words.

The Corporal merely nodded by way of acknowledgement, sipping his tea (I presumed it was tea, I’d yet to see anything else in his scarcely-filled cupboards) in that awkward way of his and placing it carefully back down on the coaster.

I stood, awkwardly shuffling the weight from my left foot to the right foot, feeling like this was my first forray into the world of escorting. I didn’t have a clue what he expected from me and that was both frightening and titillating in equal measure.

In all of my appointments, though there was always room for surprises, I had a fairly good outline of what to expect.  If the client requested certain sexual acts to be performed, clothes to wear,  roles to play, I knew what to do. The toys to be used, the words to say, the behaviors desired and the length of time it would last, I knew what to do. Like pieces of a puzzle, it all slotted neatly together to create a seamless illusion, a fantasy made momentarily into reality.

That’s what I was for. With the Corporal, however, everything was different.

Right from our first meeting, I’d been unable to fathom his expectation of me. To this day, I was still uncertain what I was supposed to do, right up to this very moment. I didn’t have a clue.

And that was frightening me shitless.

In a good way.

In a very, very good way.

For the first time in a long time I felt I was free falling, my arms open wide and ready to blindly embrace whatever may come. I was liberated from the stuffy confines of my normal role. I almost felt human with the Corporal. Did he feel the same?

Probably not.

“Sit down.”

Startled by the sudden command, I jumped, stumbling forward to seat myself delicately on the couch.

“We’re going to discuss the ground rules for tonight. Listen to me very carefully. If you screw this up, I will not hesitate to kick your ass out of bed at four a.m.”

The Corporal had an amazing way with words. He could make me relax so easily, erasing my fears with just a few careful sentences. If my ass clenched much tighter, the upwards suction would result in one couch vanishing into it, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to take on something quite that big.

“I’m listening.” My fingers clutched my overnight bag intensely. Did I just feel the tube of toothpaste burst?

“Stick to your side of the bed.” The Corporal started, and my mind raced to process and commit to memory every single word that fell from his lips. He may as well be speaking in French for all the good it did me. “Did you bring pajamas?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’ll wear them at all times. No masturbating in the bed; go to the bathroom if you have to do it. No late-night girl talks. No snoring. Don’t drool on the pillow. In the morning, you can use the facilities before you leave. The alarm will be set for seven a.m.”

“Understood.” This was going to be one hell of a sleepless night.

Despite the nerves, I was also excited.

This was my first chance to spend some real time with him, to get to know him. Tonight would allow me to experience him in a way I had not before. Well, for the most part. The vague memory of waking to him curled up against me on the couch played over in my mind, bringing a fresh heat to warm my face.

“...I don’t know what kind of perverted shit you’re dreaming up over there, but you can forget it. I’m not ready for that.”

“I-I wasn’t, I swear!”

“Don’t lie. It’s all over your face. If you’re not going to be able to control yourself, then you can leave now. You’ve gotten hard over dumb shit before, I don’t want that poking my back while I’m trying to sleep.”

I was beyond flustered.

My mouth opened and closed several times, soundlessly. “I… I wasn’t… It won’t…” I mumbled, staring down at my feet, too shy to look anywhere else. Looking at me now, you wouldn’t think I had vast experience in this field.

You wouldn’t think I could string together an incredibly dirty sentence without so much as batting an eye. It was _his_ fault - all his god damn fault.

“Did you manage to smooth things over with your girlfriend?” He asked, sitting back in his chair, tea in hand. “She looked pretty upset when I dropped you off.”

It took me a second to regain my composure enough to realize he was asking about Mikasa.

“That’s… she’s my sister. Actually, I thought I told you that? It was a little awkward, but I think I managed.”

“She doesn’t know what you do, does she?”

“No one does.” I said, still  unable to look at him. “It’s not something I can really tell them.”

“I imagine it’s not easy.”

“What about… you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you… does anyone know I’m here?” I looked around the apartment. No one ever seemed to call for him while I was here; not on his phone, or at the door.  It was as though the place truly existed on another time frame, away from the rest of the world. Once the front door closed, no one could intrude on us here. It was just me and him.

“No. I don’t make a habit of revealing my personal business to others.”

“...That was a dumb thing to ask, I’m sorry.”

“At least you recognized the fact.” He sipped his tea, and I could feel his cold eyes boring into me. “I didn’t expect you to be good at conversation when I chose you, so don’t over worry the things that don’t matter.”

“Why did you? Choose me, I mean.” I stole a peek through my lashes at him, hesitant to meet his eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw he was still looking at me. I wonder what he thought when he looked at me.

Did he like my features? Anything in particular? I wanted to know.

He contemplated my question, the seconds dragging on before he finally parted his lips and out spilled his words. I soaked them up like a sponge. “I liked the look of you, though I couldn’t see your face. The others were trying too hard to be… sexy, I think was the goal. The rest were too innocent, too plain.”

I tried to think of the photos uploaded to Hange’s website.

Of course the faces were obscured, blurred out to protect our privacy.

They hired a photographer to do all the shoots in a studio in town; I would have to check, but I recalled one of me sitting in a chair, the other standing loosely with a hand on a hip. I didn’t feel all that comfortable when they were taken. It was embarrassing, made more so with Hange’s enthusiastic cries from the sidelines.

_“Show us your ass! That’s what they want to see. Turn around, stick it out more! That’s it! Now off with your shirt!”_

In the end, they didn’t really get what they wanted from me so we settled with the more subtle photos. What Hange did with the rejects, I didn’t want to think about.

Hearing that my awkward poses were what lead the Corporal to me made me feel giddy. “I’m not very good in front of the camera,” I admitted, smiling nervously at the memory, “Hange gave up in the end trying to make me look sexy.”

“Being yourself can be more effective than forcing it.”

“I guess. I never really understood, Sir, what exactly you wanted me for.”

He drained the last of his cup and placed it back down on the coffee table, and I suspected he was stalling his answer. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, his head turned away from me. I wanted to draw his attention back to me somehow, to forever keep him seeing nothing but me.

“It would seem I have a problem with… getting close to someone.”

His words sounded like they carried more emotion than he was letting on. There was something in them he wasn’t outright saying, something his mind’s eye was seeing that I wasn’t privy to.

“The touching thing, you mean?” I ventured.

“That appears to be the case.” He sighed.

“Am I… helping with that?”

“Don’t ask dumb questions.” He got to his feet, collecting his empty cup from the table and strolling to the kitchen. I watched him move, my eyes glued to the way his legs carried him, to the way his fingers gripped the cup delicately, to the wriggle of his ass. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help but glimpse it before it vanished behind the counter.

“You want something to drink?”

“Oh, uh… sure.”

“Tea, coffee? Water?”

“A glass of water, please.” My throat was dry.

As a rule of thumb, I avoided eating or drinking around clients. It was all too easy to slip something into it, resulting in some freakish results. You didn’t know what you were taking, so I always made sure not to do it. It was going to be a long night without any sustenance and I was already thirsty.

If the Corporal were to drug me, the worst case scenario would be I’d end up dead.

Okay, that was a pretty bad worst case scenario but I was willing to take that risk.

In a few moments, he’d made himself another cup of tea, and poured me a glass of cold water. I accepted it graciously, sipping lightly and enjoying the refreshment, all the while reminding myself not to ask anymore dumb questions.

Which happened to potentially be anything to come from my mouth.

“Can I ask you something?” I toyed with the remaining water in my glass, swirling it around, careful not to let it spill.

“Depends what it is.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask ever since… well, ever since I came here. These clothes…”

“Ah. I was wondering when that would come up.”

“I want to know what it means?” I was fully aware he’d probably shoot me down again, or outright ignore the question. I had to try. I wanted answers, whether my questions were considered dumb or not. “It’s really cool, don’t get me wrong. I kind of like…. wearing it.”

“I designed it myself, if you must know.”  He sat back in his chair, folding one leg over the other. “I never really thought it would get worn as much as it has been.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” I sounded hopeful. I probably looked like a puppy dog as I looked over at him, to his expressionless face. Only it wasn’t as stoic as I thought to find it. His brows were knotted together, a crease between them, and his eyes were clouded over like a stormy sky.

“Maybe. There’s another jacket.”

“Another one?”

He nodded, slowly. “It has a different design on the back. Remember, I told you you were training.”

“Oh, yeah.” That seemed so long ago now, I had forgotten. “This is my training uniform, then?”

“That would be the implication.”

“If I… pass, complete the training - do I get to keep the second jacket? Or the whole uniform?”

“You’re weird.” He scoffed, reaching forward for his tea. He took a few tentative sips, blowing across the surface to cool it down. “ _If_ you manage to complete your training, if you really _want_ it, you can have it.”

“Thank you, Sir!” I was genuinely delighted, so much so I could almost feel the tail wagging behind me. Maybe my butt was twitching to the motion, I wasn’t sure. It felt like my whole body started to vibrate with joy. I wanted to succeed so badly, I was ready for anything.

If all I would be able to take away from our encounter was a small memento, I would be happy. Anything else would be too much to hope for.

The two swords was a cool design, I could only imagine the other piece was even cooler. I would work hard, and earn it. Whatever that meant. I still didn’t know what I was training for. One thing at a time, I suppose.

I was enjoying sitting here, conversing with him. It was the longest we had spoken to date, and the more we talked, the less nervous in his presence I became. I felt he was relaxing  as well, his body language shifting until he seemed more open, less reserved.

We talked a lot that night, over several cups of tea and glasses of water. I gleaned all the information I could get from him, precious little tidbits that only deepened the flutter in my chest. Our encounter was going to hurt me one way or another; I knew that, I accepted it.

I resigned myself to it, ordaining to be content with the time I was with him now and disregarding the future that was most certainly going to be without him in it.

That wasn’t worth thinking about.

“It’s getting late.” The Corporal announced suddenly, another cup of tea drained. “I’ll shower first.”

And with that all the nervousness I’d manage to suppress came bubbling back to the surface with a vengeance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -rubs hands together- What ever could happen next, I wonder?
> 
> If you haven't already and you're enjoying it, please leave a kudos. Comments always go a long way to making me happy, too. Thank you so much to everyone who has done these things already; you're all incredible people and I love you to pieces.
> 
> I welcome all kinds of feedback (so long as it's constructive!) so don't be afraid to tell me what could be better/what you liked. It all helps me to improve!
> 
> I'll see you on Friday!


	23. Every Touch Has A Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> First off, I'm unlikely to update next week! I'm really sorry... but I wanted to remain 10 chapters ahead at all times, and with this chapter, I am only seven ahead. I am so sorry. Writer's block is an absolute bitch and I don't want to run out of content consistently.
> 
> Hopefully I will regain some ground soon. If you are interested, you can follow my tumblr for updates and what not regarding the fic. I don't know if anyone is THAT bothered, but I'll include the link in the notes at the end if you want.
> 
> Special shout out to Chief Editor Ball Buster for living up to their name, and also to B who is on board as a beta now too.

Just how long could one man shower for, exactly? 

I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Fifteen minutes and counting.

The sound of the running water in the bathroom was the only sound in the apartment. I was hypnotized by it, listening closely for when the stream was interrupted, splashing down more heavily a few seconds later. 

Most likely the disturbance was caused by him raising his arms, lathering the soap thickly across his chest. I imagined the white foam coating his upper body, how his hand, spread wide, would glide over his glistening skin. 

By now, his hair would be slicked back from his face, droplets of water gliding down his chiselled cheeks and over his neck. He would be flushed from the temperature. Then he would close his eyes, turning his frame into the water to rinse the soap away.

I heard the water shut off, breaking from my rather detailed fantasy abruptly.

I chugged the last of my water as he came out the bathroom, looking intently anywhere but at him. From the corner of my eye, I could see he was dressed only in a white towel, wrapped precariously about his impossibly slender waist. My promise earlier not to poke him with my arousal was soon to be dangerously close to breaking. 

“There’s fresh towels in there. I’ll meet you in here.” He said curtly, and I could tell from his tone he was far from relaxed as well. This was a test for us both, whether he meant for it to be that way or not. 

By now, I was fairly sure the Corporal suffered with some kind of aversion to contact. 

Where it stemmed from, how deep it ran, I could only guess. I knew by inviting me to stay the night with him, he was gaining in confidence, if he could withstand having me in such close proximity. It was one thing to end up snuggling on the couch, an entirely different ball game laying in bed together.

I may well find myself on the couch before the break of dawn, albeit not purely because of his inhibitions.

I nodded in response to him, frantically willing my half-hard cock to chill. 

“I’ll be there in a moment, just…. Just finishing my water.” I laughed nervously, and then looked into my glass. It was empty. Guess I’ll be getting in that shower now.

Thankfully, the Corporal was already gone. 

Alone in the bathroom, still thick with the steam from his shower, I undressed myself slowly. My blood supply was still an unfair ratio to the south, and I was seriously considering taking him up on the offer of jacking off in here while I had the chance to. For something I used to rarely do, it was sure becoming a habit. 

It took a moment to figure out the switches, to turn the water from arctic to Satan’s balls to somewhere in between. Perhaps an ice cold shower would be better suited. I let the water turn to the icier side of the spectrum, and climbed in for my third shower of the day. 

_ Mom, Dad, if you could see me now. I know you struggled to get me to wash once a day, and here I am today, showering three times in less than twenty-four hours. How I’ve grown. _

The need to masturbate passed, and I washed myself despite feeling overly clean already. I was conscious of leaving too soon, given his nearly twenty minute shower, so I lingered under the water until I could withstand it no longer. 

Chilled to the bone, I hopped out and grabbed a towel, roughly drying off and wrapping it around my waist, leaving the bathroom in search of my overnight bag.

“A-Ah…” I opened the bathroom door and found myself in the company of the Corporal, who had changed into his night clothes. He wore loose tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt. It was the most casual I had ever seen him, and it took me by surprise. So much so, I couldn’t peel my eyes away.

And neither could he.

I caught his gaze drifting back to my face just in time. 

“Tch, stop staring me.”

“You… were staring at me, too.” I mumbled, trudging past him to my bag. “I’ll be through in a minute. I just needed to brush my teeth…”

“That’s what I’ve come out for.” 

“Oh.”

Hunching over, I scooped my overnight bag up, turning to find the Corporal still standing by the bathroom, his eyes anywhere but on me. 

We entered the bathroom together, standing side by side at the sink. He was careful to keep a distance, hooking his brush from the little pot on the side. I took mine from my bag, along with the paste. 

“This is kind of domestic.” I laughed, nervously, as we both wet the brushes. 

“Don’t get any weird ideas.” He retorted.

We brushed our teeth in silence, the odd feeling of domesticity not leaving me. It made me wonder what it would be like to live with someone; the simple aspects of daily life that I took for granted would be shared, like this right now. It felt somehow comforting, even if all we were doing was cleaning out teeth.

“I’ll be in the bedroom.” The Corporal said, slipping past me and across the hall to his room.  I’d soon be in there with him, too.

I felt the air knocked out of my lungs from that thought, and I gripped the side of the sink for support.  How could he do this to me so easily? He wasn’t even in the room and my legs were jelly, just from thinking of laying down near him.

The sensation was powerful, my breathing ragged for more than a minute as I struggled to get my shit together. My reflection in the mirror was pale, and somewhat alarmed. I was wide-eyed and looked like I was about to puke. Not at all how I wanted him to see me.

I dropped my towel and slipped into my own pajamas; a pair of loose shorts and a baggy shirt. Leaving my bag in the bathroom for the morning, I turned the light out and slowly padded barefoot to his room. Too shy to burst in unannounced, I knocked hesitantly on the door. 

“Get in here already.” He growled.

Reassuring as ever.

He must be feeling nervous, too. 

The other side of this door… was his room. 

My hand quivered as I clutched the handle, the metal chill against the mounting heat of my palm. I was steeling myself, drawing in one shaky breath after another. In a few seconds, I would be in his bedroom. His personal space. 

The one room of his apartment I was yet to be privy to. It felt colossal, like I was about to explore the final frontier. He had freely invited me into his most  _ private space _ . With a flick of my wrist, I’d be in there with him. 

_ Well, here goes nothing. _

I opened the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. My eyes were to the floor, to the varnished wood, to my toes that wriggled as I summoned the courage to look up. I could feel his presence,  his eyes watching me, waiting impatiently. Slowly, I raised my head and took a tentative look around.

None of my imaginings of his room would have lead me to this.

I guess I expected to find some level of personal touch in here. The rest of his apartment was devoid of clutter, the personal knick-knacks that fill up a house and make it a home. I expected to find it stowed away here, in the privacy of his own space; photographs, collections of objects and trinkets, all sorts. Yet, to my surprise, there was nothing. 

The same decor was ever present, the furniture sparse. A wardrobe dominated one wall, with a dresser beside it, with nothing but a single comb gracing the surface. No bottle of cologne, like the one I’d been spraying my pillow with, no left out pieces of jewelry  - no personal effects whatsoever. That was a disappointing lack of discovery. 

“Are you going to spend the entire night standing in the doorway?” The Corporal asked, snapping my attention back to him. I noticed the lamp beside him, casting heavy shadows across his face. 

It made the angular cut of his jaw and cheekbones yet more pronounced, the stoic set of his eyes deeper still. I caught myself staring a little while longer than I should have, drawn in by his features.

He was laying with his back propped against the headboard (a plain, wooden affair), the covers bunched around his waist. His hands were folded neatly there, not so much as a finger twitching. 

I was about to climb into  _ his bed _ . My pulse quickened at the thought.

_ Steady on, Yeager. This was purely a platonic arrangement _ , I reminded myself.

“I-I’m sorry…” I stuttered, closing the door behind me. My feet lurched forward, hurrying across the room to the far side of the bed. His bed. The one with him in it. And soon, me, too.

I eased back the grey cover, the fabric soft and inviting, and climbed in beside him.

It was an ample sized bed for two grown men, spacious and, as I was finding out, very comfortable.

Well, if my body wasn’t more rigid than a corpse in the throes of rigor mortis, that is. No sooner than my head found the pillow (was that… feather stuffing?) than the light went out. The room was cast into darkness, my eyes peering unseeingly into the void. 

All  I could make out were the wriggling colors floating in the air, the ones I always used to try and catch in my palm as a child. A remnant of the amniotic sac, or something - I couldn’t recall that particular biology lesson at present, especially when the Corporal was shuffling down the bed. 

With my eyes out of function, my other senses took up the slack.

I heard the whisper of the sheets, like the wind blowing  through the trees, and the sinking of the mattress as he redistributed his weight, in search of the perfect, most comfortable position. At one point his leg ventured too far, knocking into mine and sending me into a flurry of hastily spoken apologies. 

I moved myself further away, my ass now dangerously close to the edge of the bed, in a desperate bid to give him the space he needed. 

He settled after that, becoming so silently still I wondered if he was there at all. The bedroom door hadn’t opened, so he must be. 

He must be there, laying down opposite me, his body close and yet far away. Was he facing towards me, was he on his back, or had he turned away? I strained to see, but my vision refused to pierce darkness. 

“Goodnight, Sir.” I whispered, closing my eyes in a vague effort to actually sleep. I knew I wouldn’t manage it; the best I was hoping for was nothing more than a fragmented hour or so. My nerves were partly to blame, the other factor was that I didn’t want to risk falling asleep and missing a moment. When I woke to him beside me on the couch, I was too sleepy to comprehend properly.

I was ready for it this time, and I wanted to remember every little thing. 

To that end, secure in the knowledge he couldn’t see me, I turned my head into the pillow, breathing deeply. This was the bed he came home to every night. These were the sheets he wrapped himself in, that kept him warm as his dreams soared. 

These were the pillows that cradled his head. I was sure to find traces of his scent in the woven cotton, I just had to seek it out. As inconspicuously as I could manage, I pressed my nose into the pillow, nuzzling it and then breathing in deeply. 

My reward was nothing more than the distant scent of detergent.

Was he really that clean, that not even his natural scent became embedded in his linen?

“...Were you smelling the pillow?”

The sound of his voice struck me like a whip, my body jolting hard enough in shock to send me careening over the edge. With a painful  _ thunk _ , my ass hit the floor. “Ah...ow…!” I groaned, a dull ache shooting up my spine. This was embarrassing, to say the least.

I heard him exhale sharply. “Get back into the bed. How close to the damn edge were you to fall out so easily?”

“Uhm…” I clambered to my feet, stumbling awkwardly in the dark. I was grateful that he couldn’t see me, although the blush staining my face was probably bright enough to act as a light source. I felt for the bed, padding with my palms before climbing back in. “...Sorry.”

“Are you normally this nervous when you sleep with a client?”

“I’ve… never stayed in someone’s bed before. It’s always hotels, and then only for a short while.” I explained, pulling the cover up to my chin. I wanted to crawl under it and cease existing, but that wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t that lucky. The pain in my backside was proof of that. “And for the record, no. I’m… I’m more nervous around you.”

“Is that so...” His voice trailed off, into thoughts I wasn’t privy to. 

“H-How about you? How do you feel, having me… in your bed like this?”

“It’s not entirely unpleasant.” He said after a long, thoughtful pause. “I’m trying to change something about myself. If this is how to do it or not, I don’t know. No one can know until faced with the end result.” His words were spoken as if for himself, and I just so happened to hear them. He was adamant, determined to overcome this, and it made me wonder - was it for his own benefit, or someone else’s?

I didn’t like the idea that there was someone else significant in his life. Someone who knew his name, for example, already knew him more intimately than I did.

“Do you… do you  _ want _ to change?” I ventured, pushing the stormy cloud of unwanted emotions to one side. I didn’t want to waste this precious time hung up on things I had no control over. I needed to focus on the here and now, on me and the Corporal.

“...I do.” He whispered. I wasn’t sure he’d spoken at all at first, but then he let out another deep breath and spoke, just as softly as before. “I can’t go on like this forever.”

“Are you lonely?”

“I don’t know.”

“...Does... having me here help you?”

“If it didn’t, I wouldn’t keep paying to see you, would I?”

I closed my mouth at that. He had a point, though it was nice to hear him say it. Sort of. I doubt those kind of reassuring gestures would ever materialize between us, but it was enough for me to have this much. 

I said nothing more. I lay there quietly, listening intently to the sound of his gentle breathing, waiting for the shift as he fell into a deep sleep. Little did I realize I would be the one to fall asleep first.

 

* * *

 

 

_ This isn’t my bed _ , I thought as I slowly came to. 

These weren’t my covers, either. That was not my pillow, and the arm around my waist was also not mine.

I stretched out my legs, yawned and cracked open my eyes. From a slender gap in the curtains I could see it was still the midst of night. The room I was in was too dark to make out details, and as I lay there working out how the fuck I’d come to be here, I heard a soft murmur behind me.

Oh. 

That’s right. 

I was at the Corporal’s house. I came here to spend the night, which explained the unfamiliar bed and subsequent linen. It also explained the arm around me. Wait, no it didn’t. Back up.

My body froze, struck by a sudden chill, despite the soft warmth radiating along my back. 

In what was eerily reminiscent to the other night, I found myself waking up to the Corporal holding me. His arm about my waist, he held me tightly to him, his chest pressed firm against my back. His legs were bent into mine, our hips aligned without an inch of space between. Judging by the heat, we’d been sleeping in this position awhile.

Carefully, not wanting to disturb him, I placed my arm over his and entwined our fingers, squeezing lightly. His skin was smooth, his fingers long and bony. I’d glimpsed them on occasion before, without his white gloves, but this was my first time holding his hand directly. I eased our joined hands up to my chest, slowly. At times like this, I didn’t care about not knowing his name. 

Anyone could know it. 

What I had now was better. This was far more intimate, something only I would have. 

These thoughts, I realized, were deepening. I admitted to myself that I liked him, the Corporal.

It was a funny feeling, or perhaps more accurately, it was several feelings colliding at once. They piled up one by one inside my chest; the happiness, the sadness, the confusion. 

One on top of the other, stacked so high I felt unable to breathe under the weight of it all. I was even a little jealous, to think he may have someone in his life, or that once he was comfortable being intimate, he would find someone to spend his days with.

Someone he would invite here, to lay where I am, someone he would whisper sweet nothings to do on hazy Sunday mornings.

Just how deep would that feeling burrow into me? It was like a worm, eating its way through my heart.

I knew that when the Corporal was finished with me, he would leave a hole straight through the center of my heart. 

It was a bittersweet affair, to feel this way. Was I falling for him? Or had I already fallen? My body answered for me, a painful twisting in my chest leaving me breathless. 

_ No, I don’t think this is love. Infatuation, more likely. It’s human nature to want the most what you can’t have. I’m sure I’d be over him by now if we just fucked. Then I wouldn’t spend so many of my evenings jacking myself off into a pillow, freshly coated in his cologne.  _

Now I was thinking about all the dirty things my mind conjured up. 

Great.

All too quickly the blood in my body diverted, gathering at my waist. I was growing steadily hot, unable to stop the fantasy of us together from flooding my mind, the images becoming more vivid the harder I pushed them away. 

To make matters even worse, the Corporal was shifting in his sleep, his hips grinding lazily against the curve of my ass. He seemed to lose his inhibitions all too easily when he slept, a fact I am sure he was unaware of when he invited me to stay. Either that, or he expertly played me for the biggest fool in history. 

I was trapped, his fingers holding fiercely onto mine, inches from my pounding heart, and his hips glued to mine. At least the excruciatingly slow grinding had ceased.  Now all I had to contend with was the odd sensation of his flaccid cock pressing into my ass, and my own very not flaccid cock. 

There was nothing else for it.

Reluctantly, I unhooked my fingers from his, and as gently as possible, slithered out from the bed. My problem wasn’t going to go away on it’s own, and there was no way I would be able to do it in his bed. 

Especially when he instructed me to use the bathroom in the event of… well, in  the event of _ this _ . 

My only shred of luck this night was that he appeared to still be sleeping, his breathing deep and rhythmic, no barrage of angry and sassy comments flying out into the dark. I still had to make it to the door, however.

I would like to say I moved stealthily, with the complex grace of a feline. Instead, I was a wobbly fucking mess, each step forward positively exhilarating, a will-I-stub-my toe-or-not-roulette. 

Eventually, I found my way to the door, easing it open as silently as possible. I sighed with relief once I was out, and ambled my way into the bathroom.

The light was too intense at first, stinging at my tired, dark-accustomed eyes. Splashing my face with cool water, I examined my face in the mirror. Damn, I looked like a mess. All the time I spent earlier shaping my hair to perfection was wasted, with odd strands sticking out at whatever angle they pleased. 

No amount of taming with my fingers would fix this tonight. I guess it didn’t really matter. 

He was sleeping, and the last time I checked, it was impossible to see with your eyes closed. 

I’d come in here to masturbate, though the treacherous journey to get here had alleviated that particular problem for me. I was too restless to lay down, however. Fetching my phone out of my night bag, I closed the lid on the toilet and sat down, and checked my messages.

I had one from Hange - another new customer, and something about their organizer. 

I didn’t pay much attention to it, clearing it off my screen and moving on. With Mikasa leaving, seeing clients would be simpler, and now that I was no longer in Hange’s bad books, the bookings from new clients were steadily increasing. I would be relying on them all, more so if and when the Corporal ended with me. 

There was that feeling again, wiggling like a worm inside my chest, inside my heart. 

I needed to get over this infatuation before that came to pass. Telling myself that was the easy part; the real challenge would be finding a way to do it. I had to pick the difficult one to get hung up on, didn’t I? I slept with plenty of guys, it was never a problem. So why  _ him _ ?

“Corporal…” I whispered, staring down at my phone. “God damnit, what is wrong with me?”

The answer was right outside the bathroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> For those of you who do want to follow updates outside of AO3, you can do so [here](https://captain-cleanliness.tumblr.com/). Huge NSFW warning on that though.
> 
> Anything related to the fic will be tagged 'fic' (I do put my other creative stuff under that tag also, but there isn't much). 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! I'll see you all soon...!!


	24. Only By The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for not updating last week! But thank you all who have come back this week. 
> 
> The schedule has been posted on my tumblr, but for those of you not following me there: the next update after today will be 12th May, but then it will go on a brief hiatus until 9th June. I'm away on holiday, and probably won't be able to write. I am so sorry! I will miss you all.
> 
> As for today's update: I hope you all enjoy it, please leave your thoughts in the comments and kudos are always welcomed. Your support, as always, has been incredible. You're all awesome readers!!

This had been my first time falling asleep next to someone. That I was comfortable enough to invite him here, to sleep beside me, gave me a glimmer of hope for my future. 

Of course, he behaved as I expected him to; courteous, considerate, and hopelessly nervous. It humored me to know he was more likely the most anxious out the two of us. His presence had a calming effect on me, while simultaneously stirring something unknown in me. It was confusing and a little annoying, much like the boy himself was.

He fell asleep quickly, his nervous energy burning out and sending him off long before I even felt the pull on my lids. I lay quietly, listening to his steady breathing, the gentle whisper of air through his lips. He didn’t snore, which was a relief. 

I’d overheard Petra complaining more than once that Oruo snored like a pig, but the little shit next to me was almost soundless. 

Rather than an irritant, I found the sound of him peacefully sleeping to be relaxing, something I was lacking in my life. It was also strangely addicting to observe him as he slept, his normally wild and animated face relaxed at last. His jaw was slack, a small gap between the plumpness of his lips drawing in sufficient air for him to breathe, and no doubt eventually drool, too. His eyes were closed, seeing beyond a wealth of things I'd never truly know. 

To my surprise, I could feel myself lured by the promise of sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes open, as much as I wanted to, and soon I entered into a dreamless state.

I did not anticipate waking up alone, however. 

How long had I been sleeping for? It was never very long. At best I would achieve three or so solid hours, and at worst as little as half an hour. 

Despite the disturbance, I felt refreshed. What unnerved me was the space next to me. Reaching out, I tested the warmth of the sheets - they were cold, subtle traces of warmth lingered, but nothing substantial. He’d left a while ago.  

The question was, then, why had he left at all? Was he still here, in the apartment? Or had he gone home?

I sat up, wide awake. The bed felt too big to be in by myself. 

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I was being irrational. I had to pull myself together. If he’d gone home, he’d gone home. It shouldn’t matter to me. It _ didn’t _ matter to me. 

Shaking my stupidity off, I threw back the covers and got to my feet. The floorboards were cold to the touch.

I was far too old to be going through these games. He was cute, but not that cute. Besides, I was doing this shit for Erwin, not some brat I found on the internet.  That wasn’ t exactly true but it may as well be. I’m sure that’s how most guys found him .

He was the substitute, not the main event, and I would do well to remember that. It was laughable, though, and the senselessness of my situation was not at all lost on me. If I had known all those years ago, that one small moment would have me end up like this, I never would have opened that door. There was no use regretting what had already happened - that was more senseless than the resulting circumstances. 

I opened the bedroom door and stepped out, glancing curiously for signs of my missing guest.  If he was gone, there was no use me wasting my time here, either. I would get dressed, grab my car keys and leave. Except, he was still here.

The bathroom door was closed, a bright glow radiating through the gap at the bottom. He was in there. I sighed with relief, my head dizzy as it flooded my system. 

Why was I reacting this strongly? 

I pressed my hand over my heart, feeling the pulse beneath my quivering palm. It was absurd, that I should feel this way over a small thing. Over  _ him _ . 

Folding my arms I leaned on the wall beside the door, listening, hearing nothing but my own slowing heartbeat. The fuck was this kid doing in there? 

“Open the window if you’re taking the biggest dump in history.” I called, smirking as I heard the toilet seat clamor, no doubt having startled him. His phone colliding on the tile was vaguely concerning. It was unhygienic to use a phone while on the toilet. 

“S-Sir!” He called back, sounding frazzled. “I’m not…-”

Perfect. I liked him like that. It was fun to watch him scramble. It made me feel better about my own confusing emotional state. “If you’re not shitting, you’re masturbating. I didn’t expect you to actually go and do it when I mentioned it earlier.”

“N-N-No…” There was a pause, a shuffling, and then the door opened. Our eyes met - his were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came in here. I wasn’t doing anything, I swear.”

Too cute. That irritated me. His earnest reactions always threw me off; I didn’t know how to respond properly. I was prickly by nature, I knew, and he seemed too soft to be around me, yet here we were. Again. Despite all my protests and self-declarations not to see him anymore, I’d invited him to my apartment for some weird sleepover. It was about time I got my shit together.

Even thinking it, I knew I wouldn’t go ahead with it. 

I wasn’t ready to be mature enough to walk away from this nonsense. Not when, in some ways, I was beginning to feel it working. There was a definite change in me, and one I could only attribute to this guy - to  _ Scout _ . 

“On nights when I don’t sleep,” It was a null and void statement already, “I go for a drive.” 

I searched the vast ocean of his eyes for some resemblance of life. I came back bitterly disappointed. 

Sighing, I expanded upon my point. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Oh… That sounds really great, actually.”

“Go get dressed. Your normal clothes will be fine for this.” Pushing past him, I entered the bathroom, shooing him away with his things. I showered quickly, freshening myself up. I didn’t expect him to do the same, he wasn’t like that. It suited him, and I didn’t want to enforce too much of my ways on him. He was compliant enough to satisfy. 

Once dressed, I grabbed my car keys and signalled for the door. “Let’s get going.”

“You do this often?” He asked as we stepped into the empty hallway. 

I inclined my head. “I don’t sleep much.”

“I see. I was afraid I’d disturbed you, I was trying to be quiet… I mean, I was trying to be quiet when I got up and stuff, not when I was… because I wasn’t… you know…”

I was walking ahead, a pace or two, and I was grateful for that. It meant he didn’t see my smirk, the amusement of his words forcing it out of me. For a callboy, he was easily embarrassed. That didn’t seem to fit somehow. 

“I don’t want to know what you were doing.” I said, pressing the button to hail the elevator. “That’s your business. If you left no mess, that is.”

He was blushing now, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, no doubt conjuring up a way to untarnish himself and failing. I wasn’t going to throw him a rope. 

“I was just on my phone,” he whined, stepping into the elevator with me. I saw his reflection - the brightness in his cheeks overtaking the golden hue of his skin. He was trying to hide his face, as much as he could without making it obvious. He was failing at that, too. I observed him, the emotions on his face as changeable as the weather, out the corner of my eye. 

“Should you not inform someone you’re leaving my apartment?” His head snapped up at my voice.

“...I trust you.”

“Tch. Don’t blame me if you end up in a ditch.” I crossed my arms, leaning on the wall. He was far too trusting. Did he trust his other clients this much? That was concerning. He was young and naive, and with a face like his, easily snapped up. 

He should be more careful of those he spends his time with. I did not intend to hurt him, but that was nothing to say someone else wouldn’t. The gesture he made, the truth in those words, was both encouraging and terrifying. 

I knew from the first time he arrived at my door unsolicited that he was keen to earn forgiveness.

I appreciated the risk to his life, even without his garbled speech, in doing so. It was the main reason I opened my door to him again; I had never known someone to be so helplessly reckless with their own life, not for the sake of helping me. Erwin, to a degree, had risked certain things, but I knew I served a purpose to him. 

My face, for whatever reason, was good for the business. Perhaps I am wrong, and this blushing moron next to me did have something to gain from me, but as of yet I didn’t know what it could be. Money was one thing, of course, but was I paying enough to have him risk it all? I didn’t think that was the case.

The parking lot was without a soul besides us. Unsurprising for the time of morning, and a completely welcome attribute. The roads should be clear for us, too. The city was sleeping, no doubt catching up on itself in time for the night ahead.

The same could not be said for us. 

I took a split second glance over at my passenger, wondering how he was faring at the unsociable hour. It was a common occurrence for me to be awake at this time, and by the looks of it, he was used to odd hours also. Two misfits. What a pair we made.

As I expected, there was no traffic. 

Overhead the sun was creeping up, but for now the sky remained dark. The destination I had in mind wasn’t all that far. With traffic light, we would make it in good time.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” He said. He was staring out the window, his fingers folded neatly in his lap. “I didn’t think you would come find me.”

“I have trouble sleeping. It wasn’t your fault. Entirely.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. And no, it won’t be the middle of the desert.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind where you take me. It’s nice to go out with you.” He hesitated, the comment sitting heavy in the air. I admit to feeling my pulse quicken, my fingers clenching the steering wheel tighter. “Ah, uh...I mean… I didn’t mean…”

“Forget it.” 

I pulled the car off the main road, driving a short way up before stopping. I turned the engine off, not giving him a single glance as I got out of the car. He followed suit, eyes darting around as he tried to work out where the hell I’d taken him. He would find out soon enough. 

I started walking across the loose gravel, listening to the satisfying crunch of stones beneath my feet, suppressing a smirk when I heard hurried steps scuttling towards me. 

“So… uh…. Where are we, Sir?”

“You really shouldn’t call me that out here.” I glared at him from over my shoulder. There wasn’t going to be anyone around, not this late, but even so. I did not want the risk of someone overhearing and thinking we were involved in something  _ weird _ . 

“Ah, sorry.”

“Follow me. It’s not far.” 

“I like this. It’s kind of like… an adventure.”

“You’re not afraid I’m leading you to a secluded spot to murder you anymore?”

He hesitated. “I wasn’t.”

Past tense. His response amused me. 

“We’re here.” I announced, leaning on the railing in front of me.   


“Oh… wow.”

Laid out in front of us was the cityscape, a myriad of lights against a pitch black backdrop. Some were gold, some almost white, others blue and even red. 

Faintly in the distance, the echo of an emergency service’s siren blared, diluted from the distance. The hum of traffic barely reached us here, giving the impression of seclusion. We were distant observers, like a boy and his ant-farm, peering through the glass at an unknown civilization. 

“This is incredible… the view is amazing!” I watched as Scout rushed forward, hands clapping onto the railing. “I’ve lived in this city all my life, but I never knew a place like this existed.”

“It can be crowded during the day,” I said, admiring the nightscape once more, “Late at night, it’s the perfect place to go to clear your head.”

“You come out here often?”

I nodded. “When I can’t sleep. The wind clears my mind.” As if on cue, the wind blew through, bringing with it the crisp, pure freshness that only night air could bring. I breathed deeply of it, filling my lungs with the untainted essence. It was refreshing, purifying the soul. “It helps me to relax.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he smiled, a flash of radiance upon his face. 

“Tell whoever you like. So long as they’re not here when I am. It’s not my place.”

“No, you’re right.” He paused, sounding thoughtful. “It’s  _ our _ place.”

What exactly was this brat getting at? 

It was true that I had never thought to share this place with anyone - like I said, it wasn’t  _ my  _ place - and this was the first time I was sharing the experience. I came here alone, to be alone, even from myself. I left everything at the foot of the hill, in the car, shutting the door on all the shit I had a habit of carrying with me wherever I went. By the time I arrived here, I existed only in a sense of my original self.

I could throw my worries and fears to the wind, and forget who I am for awhile. By bringing him with me, I carried half my troubles up here. Since I had already promised not to kill him, throwing him over the railing and leaving him at the mercy of the wind was ill advised. 

I wasn’t a promise breaker.

“Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“For letting me in.” 

He was standing close to me. I could feel his arm, innocently enough, press against mine as we looked out across the city together. He kept his focus steady, as I did mine. He said peculiar things, things I couldn’t fathom the meaning behind; I didn’t want to read into his folly. He was paid to speak in a certain manner, and I wasn’t going to let myself be pulled in by it, as I am certain many of his customers were. 

“You couldn’t sleep. When a baby won’t sleep, you take it out for a stroll.” I said plainly. 

“Did you… compare me to a baby?” He sounded offended.

“That seems to be the case.”

He sputtered. “I assure you I am most definitely an adult.”

I cocked a brow, tilting my head towards him. He looked indignified, his bottom lip protruding in a pout, his brows pulled together, frowning. He looked like a child about to cry - anything but the adult he proclaimed to be.

“That isn’t helping you. At all.”

I expected him to stomp his foot and scurry back down the hill to the car, a wail of dismay tearing from his lips. He didn’t do any of that. He was facing me, using the full extent of his honestly ridiculous height to prove his point, his expression suddenly serious. Little did he know, I worked with Erwin. Tall men did not intimidate me. 

Not unless they had  _ that look _ in their eyes.

And this one did.

How the fuck did he manage to go from boy to man in the blink of an eye?

“What?” 

“How about now?” His voice was smooth, a million miles from the boyish cheek he normally used, and something inside me stirred. 

The part of me that I thought to be lost forever, if it had ever existed, stirred to the sound of his voice. I felt it deep inside, like a wyrm uncoiling itself after a millenia of slumber, it’s snake-like form slithering up into my chest and wrapping around my heart. 

For a second I could only stare at him, static in my mind and cotton wool in my mouth. 

“I think it’s time we went home.” I pushed off the railing. He caught my hand, stopping me from walking away. My body lurched, the fear paralyzing me as his naked fingers entwined around mine. They were cold to the touch, but undeniably soft. “What do you think you’re doing…?”

“Just… stay a minute more.” He whispered, holding my hand fully, his frame inches from mine. 

I wanted to protest. The fear in me, it screamed so loudly I could hear nothing else above it. It drowned out my sense of reason almost entirely, though from what it sought to protect me from I was never fully aware. It forced the memories back, pushing them to the surface, as if I was standing there in the living room facing it for the first time.

No. I wouldn’t let it win. 

I let my fingers collapse around his, and, closing my eyes, slowly leaned forward until the top of my head nestled against his chest. My strength left me, and I leaned into him, seeking out the warmth and support I knew I would find.

Did he question my behavior? Did he even give me a second thought when he went home, after an evening of being with me? 

He told me the risks he took to come back. I knew them all too well myself; I had taken my own chances in letting him back, as well. I had my reasons. I needed this.  _ I needed this for Erwin’s sake _ . 

It was difficult for  me to focus on that when it wasn’t him stood with me, it wasn’t him holding my hand and he whose unsteady breathing I could feel on the crown of my head. It was this brat who held me as I felt myself slipping further - not Erwin. 

But I only had myself to blame for that. I wasn’t man enough to take his hand even if he offered it to me. 

I was being a coward, choosing some boy who could never feel for me, who could never develop a relationship with me, over the man who could give me everything. 

_ Wait for me a little longer _ .  _ I’ll get there. _

  
“Hey, look. The sun is coming up!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanted some Levi, I got you some Levi!
> 
> How are you enjoying his development? I hope he was alright. He's quite tricky to change voices for, to make him sound different and not as sarcastic/energetic, but still have character. I hope I did okay.
> 
> I'll see you all next week!


	25. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Thank you for coming back yet again!
> 
> This is the last official, scheduled update until the 9th June. I am away, out of the country, as of next weekend. As such, I can't promise to be able to update. I hope this isn't too much of a problem for you all!
> 
> You are more than welcome to stay in touch via [my blog](http://the-relatively-straight-guy.tumblr.com/). All fic related stuff is tagged with 'fic'. If you have any questions or just want to talk to me, you know where I'm at! 
> 
> Finally, special thanks to B and Chief Ball Buster for their continued efforts to drag my lazy writing out of the mud. Without you guys picking out my mistakes, this wouldn't be at all readable.
> 
> Without further delay, here's the latest chapter!

I felt like death.

Maybe the Corporal did kill me and I was, in actual fact, dead right this moment. The only issue I had with my excellent theory was that it felt so goddamn awful. I always viewed death as a sweet release - was my life considered that sinful that I had bypassed Heaven and landed straight in Hell? Do not pass go, do not collect $200. There was so much worse I had planned, too, so many sins yet to commit.

“You can just pull up here. I’ll walk the rest of the way.” I gestured to the sidewalk, my arm a lead weight. Jesus fuck, I was not as young as I once was. Staying up all night and watching the sunrise, as romantic as it sounds, was far from practical. I was little more than a breathing zombie.

“Alright. Make sure you don’t collapse on your way to the front door.” The Corporal pulled up, watching me carefully as I fumbled with the door handle. “I’ll drive by in five minutes to make sure you haven’t ended up as a piece of trash.”

“I’ll be fine.” If anything, I would end up a blushing piece of trash. The sentiment behind his comment made my heart flutter, in a way that still had me questioning exactly how I felt about this guy. Ah, thoughts for after I’d woken up.

I got the door open, stumbling out and reaching back in for my bag. I smiled at him, one hand resting on the door. I cocked a hip, trying to make myself as coy as possible. “Call me?”

“Fuck off.”

Laughing, I closed the car door and waved goodbye. I was reluctant to leave, as ever, but our night together was over. We watched the sunrise, staying out until the sky began to turn to a washed out blue before returning to his apartment. I’d slept for about three hours more at his place before he woke me up, and I surely felt every second I hadn’t been sleeping. 

To my utter annoyance, he looked no worse for wear, whereas I looked exactly like a guy who hadn’t slept all night. How was that even remotely fair?

I hauled my ass up the street, struggling to keep myself from falling with every step. My first destination upon getting home was my own bed for some much needed sleep. I did my best to loiter, testing to see if he really would come to check on me, but I could take being upright no longer. I needed to get home and sleep.

Opening the door as quietly as possible (I knew it was futile), I meandered inside, yawning for the upteenth time just as Mikasa came out of the kitchen with freshly made pancakes.

“You look like crap.” She said by way of greeting.

“I feel it.”

“What were you doing all night? On second thought, don’t answer that.”

“Nothing like _ that _ . I stayed up to watch the sunrise.”

“How romantic.” She walked by me, into the living room, and flung herself down on the couch to eat. “Don’t forget about tonight.”

“I won’t!” I called back down to her, already halfway up the stairs. What the heck was tonight? I guess I could remember later. For the time being it didn’t matter, all that mattered was getting a pillow under my head. I wanted my bed. I felt like I was trying to keep a boulder balanced on my shoulders, it was that heavy. 

Tossing my bag aside, I dropped my clothes to the floor and climbed into bed, naked. My pillow still faintly smelled of his cologne, and I buried my nose into it, falling asleep in seconds. I was out for most of the day, waking every now and then to roll over and drift back off. 

My bed felt small. Even with just me in it, it felt small. It was also a little lonely, without his frame nestling into my back and keeping me warm. 

“Eren!”

I heard my name being called by a distant, and vaguely angry-sounding woman. It couldn’t be my mom, though she was my first thought. I groaned, rolling over and burying myself deeper under the covers. Whatever the woman wanted, it could wait. I wasn’t done sleeping.

“Eren!” She called incessantly, steadily more annoyed with each cry of my name. “Eren Yeager!”

I listened as suddenly rumbles of thunder echoed outside my window, realising all too late they were in fact steps on the stairs. My door burst open, frightening every ounce of drowsiness out of my body.

“Eren! Don’t ignore me!” 

I cracked open my eyes, blinking away the blurriness and bringing Mikasa’s towering visage into view. 

“What is it?” I asked, yawning and stretching lazily. “I was still asleep.”

“You promised me.”

“Promised what?”

“Armin’s downstairs. I texted him myself after asking you to do it. I knew you would forget. Get out of bed - you’re coming down this instant.”

I let out a loud, disgruntled groan. What the hell was she even on about? 

“I’m coming…”

“Liar. Out. Now.” In two steps she crossed the room, ignoring my shriek and grabbing the covers from me. The warmth I’d built up over the last few hours was abruptly cut off. I hurried to cover myself.

“M-Mikasa…!”   


“I’ve seen it before. Get dressed.”

“I will! Just… go!”

“You have five minutes.”

“Okay, okay!” 

The humiliation. Even if she had seen it all before, I’d hoped by now it was… well, more fleshed out. She certainly didn’t need to see that much of me, and I didn’t want her seeing it. She cruelly took my cover with her, and closed the door. 

I was wide awake now, and cold. Confused, too. Great combination.

Armin was here? 

I found some clothes to wear and went downstairs in search of Mikasa and Armin. It was as I entered the living room and saw them both together that I remembered. Mikasa was leaving tomorrow.

It must have shown on my face.

“Nice of you to join us.” Mikasa said curtly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be bothering to grace us with your presence this evening or not.”

“I’m so sorry.” I took a step forward, ready to fall to my knees and grovel. “I’ll pay for whatever food you want tonight. Totally my treat. Even dessert, if you want. Just please don’t hate me, not tonight.”

“He kind of has a point, Mikasa.”

“Thank you Armin-!”

“Hate him tomorrow instead.”

My heart sank, so soon after having been lifted. “I’m really sorry…”

“Forget it.” Mikasa said, tapping the space on the couch next to her. I hung my head and crawled over, taking the offered seat. “I want to have fun. You’re awake now, that’s all that matters.”

“Mikasa said you were asleep most of the day.” Armin looked me over. He was sitting in the chair next to us, nursing a steaming drink in his lap. “Out all night?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I was at my friend’s place.”

“The one who doesn’t have a name.”

Oh, shit. This wasn’t good. “Does it really matter…?”

“Of course it matters, Eren!” Mikasa chided. “So, Hange, then…? Kept you up all night?”

“Really, it wasn’t anything like that. Look, it’s your last night here. Let’s celebrate you.” I diverted the conversation, hooking my phone out my pocket and bringing up the pizza place’s number. “I’m ordering food. My treat, if I remember correctly?”

Food was always a perfect distraction, even if it did tuck into my wallet. Three pizzas, three desserts and three drinks later, the order was placed. All that was left was to wait for the delivery.

“I can’t believe you’re going already.” Armin said, looking solemn as he sank back in his chair. 

“I’ve already overstayed. Since Eren is determined to stay, my time here is up.”

“I told you I would manage.” I mumbled. 

“Somehow, you are doing just that. Even despite staying out all night… again…”

“Hange seems okay,” Armin said, “He’s a good person, I’m sure of it, so at least you know he’s in safe hands.”

Oh, Armin. If I really was staying with Hange, it would be the most dangerous encounter of my life, I have no doubt. They’d put things in places I never knew existed. I’d come home a changed man - wide-eyed and bowlegged, too. 

“You guys worry far too much. I’m old enough to take care of myself - I’ve been doing it awhile, nothing's changed just because…” My voice trailed off, despite my attempts to recover. It still wasn’t easy to say it out loud. I wondered if it would ever be easy, or if I’d just grow numb to it. I’d grown a lot since Mom passed; I’d matured (arguably, but let’s say I had) and developed emotionally in many ways since then, and somehow I absorbed the grief. Did I have time left for the same to happen again?

Mikasa placed her hand on mine, and Armin on my knee. They squeezed together, anchoring me into the present moment. I looked up, smiling thinly at them both, grateful for their presence despite their teasing.

“We should go somewhere after we’ve eaten.” I suggested. “Get out the house for a while.”

“That’s a good idea. Where should we go?” Armin said. He thought for a few seconds, and then answered his own question. “How about the park?”

“Is it still there?” Mikasa asked.

“I haven’t heard of it being taken down.” I said. 

The park in question was a short walk from here. Though I had no reason to go there for several years, it was a favorite haunt of ours as little kids. A couple of swings and a slide, nothing too fancy, but enough to keep the three of us occupied. The slide acted as a fort well enough, defended by two of us while the other one was chosen to be the invading force. We took it in turns to play each role to keep things fair.

The idea of going there was filled with nostalgia, memories of our past selves flooding back, reminding me how far each of us had come. Mikasa, living upstate and working on her studies. Armin, no longer the little kid bullied by the bigger ones, in a serious relationship with Jean.

And then there was myself. 

Shaking off the gloom about my own shortcomings, I took their hands in mine and declared, “We’re going to the park!”

“Dinner first.” Mikasa reminded us. “Then we can play.”

“It should be here soon…” I checked the time on my phone. I placed the order fifteen minutes ago. 

“In the meantime, you can tell me more about Hange. How long have you two been dating?” Mikasa said.

I groaned. “There’s nothing to tell you. What is with this fascination?”

“You’re my brother. I need to know everything about this person who thinks they’re worthy of you.”

“Can’t you be more surprised that I’m dating a guy?” I shot back. Mikasa shrugged her shoulders, her expression unchanging. “...Is it really that little of a surprise?”

“It doesn’t matter what gender they are.” Mikasa stated. “Whatever they are is irrelevant. All that matters is that they are good enough for you.”

I didn’t know if I should  be offended that my apparent sexuality wasn’t a shock to her, or endeared that she cared so much. 

“He really doesn’t like talking about it much but I really don’t think you have to worry about Hange being good for him. Eren even went to buy a bottle of his cologne.” Armin interjected. 

“Armin! Why are you telling her that?”

His smile was unforgivable. He was enjoying this, a little too much for my comfort. 

“Is that so? If it’s that serious, then I hope you’re using protection. You are, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to wake up and this will all be a nightmare. I am definitely not having this conversation with my sister. No way.”

“Safe sex is important, Eren. It’s not just for avoiding unwanted pregnancy. Anal sex is just as dangerous if you aren’t taking the right precautions…”

“We’re about to have dinner! Have mercy!” I yelled, covering my ears to block it out. Hearing those words from Mikasa’s mouth was disturbing, and not a memory of our last night together that I wanted emblazoned on my mind. 

“Armin, you need to make sure Eren is safe, whether he is bottoming or topping.”

“Oh my god… please… stop…” I was going to vomit. There was not enough bleach in the world to cleanse my mind of this.

Armin laughed. “I think he’s got the message.”

The doorbell rang, and I swear I have never moved so fast to answer it. “It’s here!” I cried, launching myself from the couch and, equally, launching myself clear of the awful conversation.

I had never been happier to see a scrawny, bored looking man in his early twenties holding out pizza boxes on my doorstep - and I was a huge fan of pizza delivered to my door. I don’t think he had ever seen anyone happier than I was right then.

I carried the food triumphantly into the living room like an ancient hunter presenting his catch. 

“Here we go, guys.” I put the drinks on the coffee table, sitting back down with my own box. My stomach gave a hungry rumble as the greasy smell wafted up my nose. It was nice to know the awful conversation had done little to kill my appetite after all.

  


* * *

  


With bellies full of pizza and ice cream, under Armin’s suggestion, the three of us headed to a park near the house. It was a short walk to relive childhood memories, and a fitting way to spend our final evening together. At this hour it was deserted, making it easy for us to indulge our inner children - me more than the other two.

“Everything seems so much smaller.” I said, wedging myself at the top of the metal slide. 

To think I used to do laps of this, sliding down with ease and landing on my ass at the end, only to get up and do it all again in the name of entertainment. It would be a much smaller journey now, my legs almost to the end as it was, if only I could actually move. My thighs were too thick. How things have changed.

Armin laughed, climbing up to give me a sound push down. My descent was pathetic. 

“Of course it seems smaller. You’re bigger.” Mikasa stood opposite me, clutching at the scarf I gave to her all those years ago. “To a degree, I suppose.”

“H-hey! I did grow!” I stood up, dusting my ass off with indignation. 

“I’m going on the swings.” Mikasa, ignoring my protesting, sat herself down on one of the swings, pushing off with her feet and gaining momentum quickly. 

“They were always your favorite.” I said, climbing atop the slide to help Armin down it. 

“If you go high enough, it’s like you’re flying. For a few seconds at least.” Mikasa replied.

“It’s really not the same like this.” Armin said. “It’s over too fast.”

“Everything is.” I jumped down, and helped him back to his feet. 

“That’s a little deep.” Armin frowned, but it was gone in seconds. “Race you to the swings!”

“Wai- hey, that’s not fair! You had a head start!” 

Armin claimed the remaining adult swing, laughing merrily as I stalked over to the children’s ones. Eyeing them up, the caged seat for toddlers, I figured I would be able to climb in easily enough. 

“You aren’t serious…?” Mikasa said, watching me carefully.

“It’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t fine.

A cage is exactly what it was, and the moment my ass hit the seat I was a prisoner. 

My legs stuck out, too long to even lift off the ground, and I sat there rocking slowly back and forth as the realization sunk in. I was stuck. While the other two enjoyed themselves, their attention turned away from me (thankfully), I sat uselessly wondering how the fuck I was going to get out of this. If they had to phone the emergency services to cut me out…

“Are you okay over there?” Mikasa asked.

“I-I’m fine. Just contemplating some things.”

“He’s stuck, isn’t he?” She said to Armin.

“I think so. Maybe we should help.”

“It’s a good lesson for him to learn.”

“I  _ can _ hear you guys. I also said I was fine.”

“Then you won’t want our help getting you out of there.” Mikasa was quickly dropping down my Christmas card list. 

I wasn’t going to give up. “Exactly!”

Putting my legs firmly on the ground I stood awkwardly, pushing up with my legs and down with my hands in an attempt to dislodge the cage around my ass. The angle was impossible to get right, the bars digging into my lower back and thighs. 

“Some things really stay the same,” Mikasa sighed as she appeared in front of me, “You’re as stubborn as ever.”

“Just… get me out of here.” I muttered, defeated.

“I’ll help, too.” Armin offered, hooking his hands under my arms. “I’ll lift, Mikasa push the seat, and Eren use your legs.”

The team effort paid off, and with a great heave, I felt myself freed from the goddamn swing.

Pulling my pants (dislodged in the effort) back into place, I silently vowed never to play on children’s swings again. That was a lesson sourly learned.

As I stood correcting my clothes, I heard something I hadn’t heard in years. Looking up, I saw Mikasa in a moment of joy, her happiness leaping from her lips. She was laughing, hiding her mouth behind the scarf as if to catch the sound from escaping. 

I didn’t mind that it was at my expense; it didn’t matter  _ what _ made her laugh, only that she was laughing. 

Armin seemed taken aback by it, too, his mouth open in amazement the same as mine. It made us smile.

“W-What is it?” She said, seeing us both staring silently at her.

Saying nothing, I drew them both into my arms, hugging them with all my strength. I wished the hands of time would stop, just for us, to make this moment last longer. I didn’t know when I’d be together with them like this next, how old we would be or even  _ who _ we would be. 

I wanted to stay as we were. I clung to them both, and felt their grasp tighten in return. We were all thinking the same thing.  I could feel it in the gentle tremor of Armin’s shoulders, the soft sigh from Mikasa.

  


* * *

  


She left the following morning, amidst a rain of tearful goodbyes from me and Armin. When the time came for our last hug, I squeezed her tightly, too tightly, and reluctantly let her go. The sound of the car door slamming shut echoed in my mind, and her softly spoken words in my ear would never leave me.

“ _ I love you, brother _ .”

I tried to tell her I loved her, too, but the words came out as a series of choked sobs. I’m sure she got the message, reading it clearly from my snot-streaked face. As she drove off, I took Armin into my arms and we stood on the porch, shamelessly indulging our feelings. 

I didn’t like crying.

I didn’t like others seeing me cry, either. Yet I couldn’t help myself in that moment, and I didn’t want to hold it back, either. She was my beloved sister, and waving goodbye to her hurt more then than it did a few years before. I could only stand there and pray with all my might that wasn’t to be the last time I saw her. 

The passing of my father taught me how fragile our existences were. 

  
I held Armin firmly, as if he too would slip through my fingers like sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts and theories. 
> 
> As always, I really appreciate you choosing to read my work! 
> 
> I'll see you in a couple of weeks!!


	26. The Intimacy Building Technique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am jet lagged to high hell but here. I have a chapter.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who comes back to read this! It was nice to take a break if I'm honest, but damn it does also feel good to be back.

 “How are things? It’s been a little while since I saw you!” 

“They’re not bad.” I wrapped my hands around the mug in front of me, contemplating whether or not I wanted a sip of it. It still felt too hot, and nothing was more uncomfortable than a burnt tongue. A few things came close. Chilli powder on your dick, for example. Ouch. 

I’d come here after school as scheduled, Armin kindly dropping me off - without question, too. I suspect he was keen to see Jean (I still don’t understand how anyone could miss that face). 

Glancing around, I was the youngest occupant. This particular joint was not the coolest hangout for people my age after a hard day’s grind at the desk, not that I minded being here. I preferred it that way. Less risk of being caught by someone I knew, because lest that happen to me. A second time. 

The murmur of conversation was low, somehow consistent in its inconsistency, rising above the clatter of cups and the gurgle of the coffee maker. I couldn’t make out any one individual conversation, or the joke that made that woman laugh,  which was reassuring for my own topic. 

“You found your organizer in the end, then?” I gestured to it as Hange placed it on the table. I recalled them mentioning it was lost, while I was staying at the Corporal’s place. I’d been too preoccupied at the time to register what a problem losing it was.

“Yeah! You know, it was the strangest thing. I left it in here apparently - I’ve never done that before. Just imagine if someone took it! All the secrets of my clients, and you guys, would be revealed. In the wrong hands, it could really be bad!” Hange shuddered, placing a protective hand over the book in question. They drummed their fingers in turn over the cover, lost for a moment in thought. 

For something so precious, they were careless enough to leave it behind in a cafe. Like that wasn’t concerning to know.

“I haven’t had any weird calls, so I guess they were good citizens. Please, be more careful in future…” I warned, feeling uncomfortable. 

“Yes, yes. Now, I have two new customers for you. The first one is the one you cancelled on last time,” Hange looked up from the organizer, peering over the rim of their lenses at me. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as if to attention. I decided now was the time to take a sip of my drink - I needed the warmth to chase out the sudden chill in me. “He still wants to see you.”

“When?” 

“Is Friday good for you?”

I nodded. “Friday works.”Like I had  _ much  _ choice.

“I will let him know. Don’t let him down a second time, he has potential to become a regular. Speaking of regulars, you don’t see L-. I mean, your Wednesday appointment?”

My heart skipped a beat despite not catching what they said. I missed something important there, I could feel it. Something I would want to know. 

Instead I had to scramble for an excuse. “Ah, no. I guess I wasn’t to his liking after all.”

“That’s a shame.” Hange sounded genuinely disappointed. “I was sure he liked you. Ah, well, in that case, if you’re free from seeing him… I have someone else who could benefit from your talents.”

“Sign me up, I don’t mind.” I shrugged my shoulders. I genuinely didn’t really care who it was. If it didn’t clash with my secret Wednesday appointment, I’d do it. Speaking of which, tomorrow was Wednesday. It would be my first time seeing him since I slept over. 

I’d never forget that night; watching the sun rise with him was out of this world. The urge to put my arm around his slender waist and pull him to me was overwhelming, yet somehow I resisted. The moment, between anyone else, would have been perfect. For him, it would have ruined everything I worked so hard to build up. 

“Good! Glad to hear it. He’s a really nice man.” Hange said, rousing me from my pleasant memories.

“You know him?”

“I’m familiar.” Hange smiled knowingly at me. 

“Are you pimping me out to your friends now, or something? How desperate is this guy?”

“Fairly, but that’s not for you to worry about. He’s quite tall. It would be fascinating to see the two of you…” There was that freakish glint in their eye. It was possibly the lights reflecting off their glasses, but I knew better. Hange’s cheeks were flushed with excitement - the kind that made me feel cold all over for the second time in our brief meeting. Even in the height of summer, Hange had the ability to make me freeze over. They probably sent Satan screaming in the opposite direction, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in therapy twice a week after a chance encounter with Hange. 

I could see what they were thinking. I wish to God I couldn’t, but it was there, glimmering in their eyes.

“No! Don’t you dare start thinking like that!” I scolded, pointing my finger across the table at them in warning. “If I find out you’ve set the room up with cameras, I’ll quit. I’ll murder you and then quit.”

“Haha! It would be worth it!”

“Just how big can this guy be, anyway?” Big enough to get Hange excited. Mind you, there was plenty of obscure things that got them excited. 

“He’s over six foot tall, easily.”

I whistled. “Impressive.”

“If you end up topping, please tell me all the details. I’m curious to know.” 

“Did you need anything else today, Hange?” I tried to skip over their question. If I lingered on it long enough to understand, I know I’d lose another part of my innocence, and I was running short on that enough as it is. 

“I’ll finalize the meeting with him and text you the details.”

“When are you planning on?”

“How about Wednesday? He’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Ah…” 

“You’re free now, aren’t you?” Hange pressed. 

I couldn’t think of a decent enough excuse _ not _ to accept. Not one that I could tell them, anyway. I squeezed my brain like a sponge, praying some droplet would ooze out and rescue me. Alas, it was completely dry. 

I slowly nodded my head with resignation. “But... can you make it a later appointment?”

“Around ten?”

“That should work.”

I scowled inwardly as I accepted the booking. It was far from ideal but it was the best I could do. If I escaped from the Corporal’s in decent enough time, I could swing by this other guy’s place. It’s not like I would need to shower in between or anything.

“I understand if you’re scared. He’s really big! But I think you can handle him.” The wink was unnecessary. I pretended not to see it.

“Ugh…” If anyone thought my profession was dangerous, I would honestly tell them I feared Hange’s insatiable hunger for carnal knowledge more than I did my customer’s kinky interests. I had never met anyone more lewd than them; I doubted I ever would, and I’ve seen some shit.

There was, perhaps, one small snippet of information I had that would surprise them. The problem with that was, with no way of knowing what they would do with the information once they had it, I could very well be digging myself into a very, very deep grave. 

“Hey, Hange… you remember my two friends, from awhile ago?”

I could feel the regret already.

“Hmm? The cute blondie and the long faced one? I never forget a face.”

Hi, my name is Eren Yeager and I’m some kind of social masochist. 

“Yeah, those two. Did I ever tell you that…” I can’t believe I was going to willingly reveal this information. “...That the blonde one thinks we’re a couple? Or something like that. It might be more…  _ fuck buddies _ now.” I winced, dropping my voice low in case anyone overheard me. It was embarrassing enough admitting this to Hange, whose face now lit up brighter than any Christmas tree.

“How wonderful!” Hange clapped their hands together, voice lifting several octaves until I was forced to question just how high they could squeal. Somewhere, dogs were barking in reply. “It would certainly be an interesting combination, don’t you think? With my interest and your experience… what an incredible amount of research data I could gather! Just think-”

“No! No, no, no!” I waved my hands frantically, narrowly avoiding a collision with an unimpressed waitress as she swerved by. I shot her an apologetic look, one that quickly turned as I looked back at Hange. I could see the sliver of drool from the corner of their mouth. I didn’t want to know what kind of imaginings were going on in there.

My life was a joke.

A bad, very not funny joke.

“Your friend, the golden nugget, he’s a precious specimen.” Hange said, releasing me from their grip. They looked thoughtful as they spoke, making me pay more attention. 

“You mean Armin?” I asked.

“Mhm.”

“He thought you were a girl for awhile.” I said casually.

“Haha! Wait, for  _ awhile _ ? You mean he thinks I’m something else now? What does he think?”

“He thinks you’re a boy.”

“Haha! That’s amazing.” Hange paused, checking their watch. “As much as I’d love to continue discussing the intricacies of genitalia and its social connotations, I have some more work to do elsewhere.”

What a shame. “Take it easy.” I said, sipping my coffee. I didn’t really want it. It just gave me something to do.

“I’ll text you all the details.” Hange, in the blink of an eye, became the professional person I barely knew them to be, packing up their things.

“Make sure you take everything.” I warned.

“It could have been free advertising!” Hange threw back, laughing happily as they bid me farewell. 

I sat dazed, sipping my coffee and wondering what the hell exactly had happened to me in the last hour, and how I was going to tell the Corporal I didn’t have endless time with him.

 

* * *

 

 

“You don’t have to keep paying for cabs to get here. I can pick you up, if you want.” Apparently the Corporal was frustrated with my mode of transport. He closed the door quietly, that being his way of greeting me. 

 “I wouldn’t want to be a problem,” I say, wandering into his apartment, the feeling of anxious contentment settling over me. I was relaxed here, it was my favourite place to be, yet at the same time the Corporal put me on edge. I didn’t know what to expect, even now.

“It wouldn’t be. If you want to take a cab home, that’s fine. I can save you money on one length of the journey at least if you would like.” 

“Thank you, Sir. That sounds good.” It meant a few extra minutes with him, I’d take it. Spending time with him was the highlight of my week. Wednesdays were the best day of the week for me - beating Friday  _ and _ Saturday, combined. I was always tired for school the next day, of course, but it didn’t bother me. I was getting used to it. 

“So, uh… I’ve been thinking of some exercises we could do together. You know, to try and build some trust or intimacy without being too taxing on you.” It was true. I’d looked into it.

I put off my homework to do it, too. Though something told me the advice I read was written by someone like Jean, with nothing else to go on, it couldn’t hurt to at least try. 

“I’m almost afraid to ask.” He said, watching me carefully as I sat down on the couch. “Let’s hear it.”

“Alright! Well, apparently something like trust falls is supposed to be an excellent method for building an intimate level of trust between participants - that would be me and you - if you wanted to try it. One person stands behind the other, and then-”

“I know what a trust fall is and how to do them.” 

“Oh, well that’s a head start already! Did you want-”

“No.” 

“The other option was a staring contest.” I offered feebly, trying to hide my dismay at his ready rejection. He didn’t even take a second to consider it. 

There was no chance I would make it through ten seconds of gazing into his eyes, if he accepted the proposal that is. They were far too intense, intimidating, and downright alluring. Damn it all, I would gladly take any opportunity to freely look into them.

“You wouldn’t stand a chance.” The Corporal scoffed, raising a brow at me. Reading my thoughts straight from my head, he was challenging me, wasn’t he? 

My pride was hurt. “I bet I  _ could _ do it.” I really couldn’t, what the hell was I saying?

“Alright then. Let’s give it a go. Go stand on one side of the kitchen counter, the lighting is better over there.” 

With a confidence I certainly wasn’t feeling, I strolled over to the designated space, standing in his kitchen and leaning over the counter top. He took the side directly opposite, smoothly sliding onto one of the stools, as if he owned the place. Well, he did, but whatever. He was being far too cocky for my liking.

He rested his elbows on the countertop, leaning forward. I mimicked him, drawing our faces a reasonable distance apart. Looking at him this closely set my blood on fire, the heat pounding through me and making my head swim. He was stunning to look at. 

Sure, he looked positively  _ done _ with everything and everyone at first glance, but his gaze seemed to soften as he looked at me. Maybe I was imagining it. I probably was. 

“On the count of three.” I said, squashing my mounting nerves.

“There should be a forfeit for when you lose.”

“If I lose, you can have tonight for free.”

“That’s a high stake for you to risk.”

“If I win, I get one kiss.”

How I managed to say that out loud, I’ll never know. My mouth dried up the instant the words departed my tongue, which subsequently shrivelled and became useless. Despite my inner turmoils, I was still putting on a good show. His brow cocked again, his eyes scanning my face slowly, leisurely, analyzing for weaknesses. 

“Those really are high stakes. Let’s do it.”

Either he was confident he was going to win, or he was confident he was going to win.

The other option I didn’t bear thinking about. There was no way he would accept those terms if he harbored any sense of doubt that would result in me winning. I’d already lost the challenge, before it even began.

Our eyes locked together, a silent battle of wills. 

I often thought his eyes were the color of steel. Seeing them closely, they were tinted cobalt. I could see my own intense expression reflected in them, the determination to succeed written clearly on my face.

Every second that passed between us carried with it more tension than the last. My eyes were slowly beginning to sting, the urge to blink and look away creeping over me like clouds on a sunny day. Any moment now and the fun would be over. 

I could always steal his lips. It would be his first kiss, I suppose. The thought of being his first kiss was exciting, my blood quickening in my veins as I played the scene out in my head. Of course, it wouldn’t go half as smoothly as I imagined. He’d slap me and throw me out. The stinging cheek would be worth it.

“You’re blushing.” 

“I’m not.” I answered back, unperturbed by his comment. “You are, though.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Not as bad as you.”

“When did you get so full of yourself? I think I liked you more as the insufferable, stuttering puppy you were when you first came here.”

“Things change. I got to know you a little more, I guess.”

“You spend one night here and you think you got it all worked out.” 

“I learned a few things.”

_ Like how you thrust your hips in your sleep. _

“You’re determined. I’ll give you that.”

I smirked. “I have something to fight for.”

I inched forward, my torso almost completely over the countertop. I was sharing his breathing space, could detect the faint traces of mint mouthwash on his breath I was so close. I wanted to be closer. Close enough to…

“You blinked.” The Corporal declared, pulling back from me. “I win.”

“Wh… no, I didn’t!” 

“Yes, you did. You also looked away - I guess you lose, twice.”

Tongue tied, I sputtered at him, a series of false sentences that showed exactly how I was feeling about this. “Wh...no...I...Wai...ahh….”

The Corporal leaned back, folded his arms across his chest, and allowed the smallest of triumphant smiles to pull at his lips. Really, it was only the usually downcast corner that pointed heavenward now, and I was hooked on it. It was enough to make me chuckle, if only at my own desperation to put my own lips to his. I had distracted myself out of the goal, exactly as he knew I would. 

Slumping in resignation onto the counter, I propped my head in my hands and looked up at him. 

The Corporal shook his head slightly, “I’m not going to take the money from you.”

Like that was the part I was upset over. “I have to leave soon…”

“Are you sulking that badly?” He asked, his face flickering with a shadow. 

“N-No! It’s not that… it’s… Hange.”

“Oh?”

“They said since I’m not technically seeing you anymore, that I could see someone else.” 

“And that is later on this evening, I suppose?”

I said nothing, feeling guilty. Like I was sneaking off to see my other lover, even though there was no sneaking or a lover. The Corporal wasn’t even mine to begin with.  It was stupid, but that didn’t change the way it felt. “If it helps, I’d rather stay here.”

“You have a job to do.” He reminded me, his tone a little curt. “As fun as it is watching you lose childish games, I can’t monopolize your time.”

_ Why can’t you? I want you to. _

 “It wasn’t a childish game. It was a carefully researched, intimacy building technique.”

 “...I’m beginning to think I’m not as peculiar as I once thought.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“If that’s how normal people get close to each other, I’m better off as I am.” 

Hearing him speak about himself that way was too much. I’m sure he meant it as a lighthearted poke at himself, but to me it was an all out attack on an undeserving person. Sure, he was flawed. He was antisocial, difficult, quiet, awkward. The list went on, and on, and on. He was also much more than that; he was sharp, intelligent, witty, thoughtful, considerate. I couldn’t stand by and let him continue to think of himself that way. It wasn’t right.

“Don’t… talk about yourself that way.” 

“You think I’m normal?” He scoffed.

“You’re you. There’s nothing abnormal about it. It’s who you are. Don’t let anyone,  _ anyone _ , convince you otherwise. Not even yourself, Sir. Definitely not yourself.”

He regarded me stoically, making me wonder if my words reached him at all. I was spouting off like I normally do, but I couldn’t help it. “You’re passionate, kid. I’ll give you that.” He said at last.

“...What happened… to you?” I asked, my voice breaking. “To make you believe you’re anything but normal?”

“That’s none of your business.” He unfolded his arms and pushed himself off the stool. “If I wanted a psychologist, I would hire one. Not you.”

_ Let me in, you bastard. _ Just a little bit. I was adding stubborn and closed off to the list of flaws. 

“That’s not fair.” I stormed out from behind the counter, reaching out for his arm. Any other person, I would grab their wrist and force them to look at me. My fingers flexed in the air, grabbing at nothing. I retracted my arm, holding it firmly at my side instead. I spoke to his back, not caring if he paid attention or not. Somehow, I knew he would listen to me whether he looked at me or not.

“I know I’m not the most intelligent, or talented, or anything useful. I’m not completely stupid either. I don’t do this job because I’m too dumb to do anything else. I used to have a goal, you know? I’m a person, just like you are, with my own thoughts and feelings. Maybe I’m not normal either, because normal people wouldn’t choose this unless it was their last option. Don’t assume I’m too dumb to understand you, based on my choice of work.”

“I never said you were stupid. It’s not about that.” He spoke so quietly I barely realized he spoke at all. “It’s not something I can talk about.”

“Corporal…” I stepped forward, unsure what I was going to do until I did it. 

My arms shook as I curled them around him, pulling him gently towards me. I needed him to know I was here, as he did for me in the past. I wanted him to feel me, although physical contact made him wary, it was all I knew to give him. I said nothing, gently placing my arms around his waist and leaving him enough space to reject me. He didn’t resist, as I thought he would. Instead, he slowly leaned back into me. I could feel his tenseness, the unease, the tightness of his muscles through his grey shirt. But he was trying. 

This was his way of saying,  _ “I’m opening the door” _ . 

He wasn’t ready for me to step inside yet, but it was good enough to see him opening up. 

Being close to him like this brought a sense of peace down upon my unsettled feelings.

 I could smell his cologne. My eyes drifted closed, breathing him in, feeling his warmth.

We didn’t speak. There wasn’t a need to. 

I think I must have said enough for us both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you... like it?


	27. Mr Smith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment some of you have been speculating since the beginning is finally here!
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay. Between personal issues and work kicking my ass, I've not had the strength to tackle this. Regardless, I hope you'll like it.
> 
> Heads up: in case you can't tell from the title of the chapter, the following will contain Erwin and Eren!!!

Leaving the Corporal only got harder each time. More and more of myself was peeling off, to the point I wasn’t even putting on a front with him anymore. But leaving was something I had to do, and as the cab pulled up at the hotel, where my second appointment of the evening waited, I resolved to leave my complicated feelings on the backseat of the car. I had a job to do. 

And boy, what a treat this was turning out to be.

I’d been too engrossed in my thoughts to pay attention to where I had been dropped off, the sight of the curved, glass building stealing away my breath. I was tempted to climb back into the cab; there was no way in any universe they would let me inside this building. They’d clean the glass just from having my poor-ass eyes look at it.

I double-checked the address on my phone, shooting out a quick message to Hange. They must’ve gotten it wrong. Their response indicated that, no, this was correct, and I should hurry and get my ass in there.

_ Mr. S _ did not like to be kept waiting. I was surprised to find Hange hadn’t assigned him a number. Whatever. I was sure to be returning to the street via my backside the moment they laid eyes on me, as I refused to believe anyone who could afford luxury such as this would call on little old me.

I was to ask at the desk for him, if I got that far. 

I approached the glass doors cautiously, my mouth drying with every step I took. They  _ swooshed _ open, the gentle warmth of the lobby inviting me in. My shoes squeaked on the polished, marble floor, causing the receptionists to glance up in my direction. They smiled warily. I smiled back, awkwardly. 

“Can I help you, Sir?” The clerk asked, eyeing me carefully.

_ Yes, I’m here to see Mr. S. No, my stupid ass pimp forgot to tell me his room number. I don’t know his name. It might not even have an S in it. Crazy, I know. I’ll be going now. _

“Uh…” I opened my mouth, hoping the answer would magically fall out. It didn’t. If anything, it lodged itself in the back of my throat, choking back any coherent form of language from me. 

Shit, at this rate they’d kick me out. “Uhm… I’m…”

“He’s with me.” 

That -

\- wasn’t my voice.

I turned around as sharply as if I’d been slapped, and found myself looking at a wall of flesh. It was apparently this man’s chest, and it was broad enough to be seen from space, I’d no doubt. Blinking away the daze, I craned my neck to take in his face. Neat blonde hair, deep blue eyes that poets would croon about drowning in. He was handsomely aged, shallow wrinkles hanging around his eyes and downcast mouth.

It wasn’t downcast anymore. His lips moved to smile - aimed at me. It felt like a pleasant punch to the gut, winding me soundly as I gawked up at him.

“You _ are  _ with me, aren’t you?” He inquired. 

_ Yeah, I’m with him. _ Shit, I needed to speak. Out loud.  Telepathy wasn’t a thing. Yet.

“Y-Yeah, this is who I was looking for.” I gestured loosely, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

“Thanks for your assistance.” Erwin threw that award winning smile at the receptionist, cancelling out any and all rebuttals. As I began to calm down, he raised my nerves all over again by looking at me, “Come on, I’ll take you up to my room.”

I didn’t dare look back, instead allowing this towering man to place a guiding hand on my lower back and lead me across the lobby, shoes still squeaking noisily with every step. 

It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed on us that he turned to me again and said, “...You are who I was expecting, correct?”

“I think so.” I laughed, a nervous exhalation of air. “Mr. S?”

“Mr. Smith. A pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand for me. I stared at it, bewildered, before I remembered, that unlike telepathy, a handshake was a thing. I placed my tiny palm against his and shook his hand. None of my previous clients greeted me this formally - I’d forget myself at this rate.

“Scout.” I stared down at my palm, still encased in his. “Thanks for your help back there. It’s not normally… I mean, I don’t normally visit hotels quite like  _ this. _ ” His presence was overwhelming, making me feel about an inch tall. 

However, it seemed kind, not at all threatening; there was just a lot of him, and I was very aware of that. Especially in a small space like an elevator. He was filling the enclosed space, self-assured authority leaking into the air. 

“They do give out interesting names.” Mr. Smith murmured, letting go of my hand at last. It was warmer than my other hand, making me feel unbalanced. I considered asking him to hold my other hand and even things out, yet despite what we were about to do, it seemed inappropriate.

Time to shake off the nerves and work out what kind of guy Mr. Smith was into.

“Hange? They hinted that you knew each other. So, tell me, Mr. Smith-” I was in the process of leaning up against him when the elevator slowed down, and a little too late to realize what was happening, the doors pinged open as I pulled his tie into my fingers. 

A neatly dressed man and woman stood in the now open doors, nervously glancing in at us. I stared at them, wide-eyed.  _ Oh, shit _ . My seduction was swiftly put on hold.

Not missing a beat, Mr. Smith spoke calmly, and I was left to wonder if anything could unnerve him. A challenge for later.

“It’s new.” He pulled the tie from my fingers. “I’d rather you didn’t touch it, even if it looks appealing.” 

Damn, he was quick off the cuff. I retracted my hand, stepping away as casually as I could and doing all I could not to look at the couple as they took the plunge and stepped into the elevator. 

We rode only a few floors with them, an awkward and heavy silence filling the remaining space between us all. When Mr. Smith murmured that  _ this was our floor _ , we shuffled out, his hand resting on my shoulder as a guide. I’d pay anything to know what they said after we left.

I walked along the carpeted portion of the floor, avoiding the marbled sides and enjoying the muffled fall of my footsteps. It was a struggle to keep up with Mr. Smith’s lengthy stride, my legs working twice as hard to meet his pace. I hoped he wasn’t a weird sort who would want to chase me around the room like some kind of rabbit and fox; I’d be hunted down all too easily and the resulting breathlessness on my part would not be at all titillating for him.

“This is our room for the evening,” Mr. Smith stopped outside a door.  Sliding his keycard into the lock, it flashed green and permitted entry. He opened the door, and gestured for me to enter. Smiling politely, I stepped forward.

_ Jesus fuck.  _

“Woah…” The amazement slipped out all too easily, my eyes practically bulging from their sockets as I entered the room. It was easily the same size as the Corporal’s apartment - and this was a  _ hotel room _ ! I barely heard the door click shut behind me, my attention elsewhere, such as the plush couch and coffee table in the centre of the room, the large flat screen television on the far wall, situated opposite the largest bed I had ever seen. The color scheme spoke of subtle elegance and luxury; cream, coffee tones, a splash of black and white here to accentuate. A gold throw adorned the end of the bed, quilted and shiny and probably worth more than I would earn tonight with Mr. Smith. 

Remind me to thank Hange for this later.

“You approve?” Mr. Smith asked. “Isn’t the view spectacular? I booked this room specifically for that view.”

“The view…” I murmured, dazed like a child in a candy shop. I dashed over to the windows, covering one entirety of the wall almost, and pulled back the lace curtain to reveal the cityscape. Our vantage point was sickeningly high, the people below no bigger than specs of dirt to my eyes. A thousand lights shone against a murky blue backdrop, reminding me of the hilltop view with the Corporal. 

“....Wow…” My voice was barely more than a whisper. 

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Mr. Smith chuckled, appearing behind me. I felt his hands on my shoulders, resting gently, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. He was looking at me when he said it.

“It really is. I feel like I should thank you for this.” I twisted in his grasp, turning to face him. He was seriously tall. I wasn’t short by any means, but he took the whole nine yards. “Tell me, how exactly should I do that, Mr. Smith?” I let each syllable roll off my tongue, countering it with an innocent tint to my expression. I didn’t want to overdo it, lest he be the type to enjoy the pure act. From the elevator, I gleaned he probably wasn’t into voyeurism, either that or he was incredibly in control of himself. 

I was playing with his tie again. It was a muted purple color, a flash of color on an otherwise plain, grey suit. A tailored suit nevertheless. This guy was money, pure money, and I was going to pull out all the stops to make sure he’d be coming back to me for more. 

“Ah, yes.” Mr. Smith reached into his breast pocket, pulling out an envelope. “I believe this should be done first?”

“Thank you.” I took the offered envelope and placed it on the windowsill, my attention never wavering from him. “Now, what is it you would like?” I purred, sliding my fingers down his tie and abandoning it completely.

My next move was onto my feet, but he promptly stopped my descent. “Scout, wait a moment, please. My situation is sensitive, and I need to explain to you a little.”

Puzzled, I stood back up. Was he carrying an STD or something? No, Hange wouldn’t let me near a carrier. He was into some real kinky shit, then. I braced myself.

“Come, let’s sit down and discuss this.”

“Whatever you’re into, I can pretty much do.” I said, following him over to the couch. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to know how it would feel to sit on and - oh, I wasn’t disappointed. It was like sinking into a cloud. 

“That probably won’t be necessary.” Mr. Smith was in the process of pouring himself a drink - judging by the color and portion, a scotch. He offered me a glass, and I politely declined. No drinking on the job. Glass in hand, he seated himself a small distance from me, his body angled in my direction, nursing his scotch in his lap. He took a tentative sip. “Allow me to explain. As you have probably guessed by this point, I am familiar with Hange. They’re a good and well-meaning person, which is how I’ve ended up here tonight - with you. To put it bluntly, they felt it has been long enough since I last engaged with someone.”

His phrasing was delicate and not at all blunt. I liked him already. 

“If you come quickly, I won’t judge. It’ll be a compliment.” I said, trying not to laugh as his eyes widened at my actually blunt speech. Totally deliberate, totally worth it for his reaction. He took a longer sip of his scotch, furthering my mirth at his expense. 

“It’s not quite that simple.” He continued, choosing to look down at his half-empty glass rather than at me. “I’ve been in love with someone for a very long time. I don’t know if I even can be with someone else. Please, do not be offended if this doesn’t go well.”

“Mr. Smith,” I leaned forward, placing my hand on his thigh and securing his attention once more, “I’m all yours tonight. For the next hour, anyway. With that in mind, why don’t we try and make a start? You may surprise yourself.” I peeled the glass from his hand, placed it carefully on the table.

“Thank you, I appreciate your understanding.”

“Let’s start out slow.” I murmured, shuffling across the couch, sliding the fingers of my free hand into his hair and pulling his head down towards me. I paused briefly to look into his eyes, stealing a moment as if I were hesitating, before brushing my lips over his. Opening my eyes, I looked up at him through heavy set lashes, and this time I kissed him properly. 

He was tense, and nervous, and reluctant to melt into me as I worked my lips over his, a series of gentle presses and nuzzles as I changed my angle, tilting my head and leaning into him further. I was waiting for the sound of his breathing to alter slightly. It would come in time. He just needed a little more coaxing.

Squeezing his thigh to remind him my hand was there, I pushed my body to his as much as I could, curling my fingers around the back of his neck to secure him to me.

“Mr. Smith…” I whispered heatedly, pecking at his lips tenderly, if a little insistently. 

Shyly, he slipped his arm around my waist, and I took the opportunity to deepen our kiss, sliding from the couch and onto his lap. I rested my hips tightly on his, staring intently at him. His palm rested on the small of my back, my own hands now on his broad shoulders. I was looking down at him, could see the reservation in his eyes. 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to do this. 

He wasn’t sure he _could_.

And I was here to convince him otherwise.

“It’s okay…” I whispered, dotting kisses around his lips, “Think of this room… as if it were removed from reality. Once you leave this room, whatever we did here stays within these walls. We exist in another realm.” It was oddly poetic for me, but I didn’t know what else to tell him. It seemed to work, the grip on my waist becoming more firm.

“That sounds nice.”

“Stop thinking with your heart.” I said, pulling back from him. “Don’t let that make your decision. I’m not here for romance, neither are you. This is purely physical, so listen to what your body wants.” I smothered out his protest with a fierce kiss, swallowing his fear and replacing it with lust. With a flick of my tongue over his lips, he opened up, cautiously letting my tongue snake into his mouth. Reluctantly, his tongue lifted and entwined with mine, our lips barely coming apart to sink back together. 

His unease was lifting. It was gradual, like the onset of dawn, the darkness holding him back fading away. 

Pulling back, we were both a little breathless. I gazed down at him and whispered breathily, “That’s more like it.”

“I don’t know if this is a good-”

I haughtily pressed my finger to his hips, maintaining eye contact as I gave a roll of my hips. “Shh. Live in the moment.” 

With a devious smile, I clambered down from his lap, sliding to the floor between his knees. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make you feel so good, you don’t think about anyone else.” As I spoke, my fingers rubbed gently at his groin, feeling the growing arousal through his suit pants. He was definitely interested in me now.

“I should warn you,” He started to say, his voice growing heavy,  “That it’s been a very long time and- Oh…” His voice broke off with a raspy groan as I unzipped him, reaching in and pulling his half-hard cock into my hand. Whatever he had been about to say was long forgotten, my touch erasing his neatly compiled composure. That’s what I liked to see. It made me feel good, reassuring me that I knew what I was doing. That he was as invested as he was already in me was a promising sign. 

Now to work some real magic on him.

“That’s big.” I commented, without really meaning to, running my hand loosely along his length, stirring him up. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I put his cock in their place, wrapping my lips around his base and sucking experimentally. He was thick, a little longer than average, and smelled of soap. I could lightly taste the salt of his skin as my tongue flicked against his underside, his cock twitching appreciatively in my hand. 

“I… I was saying, it’s been a while…” 

“...Uh-huh…” I still had his dick between my lips when I made the sound in the back of my throat, working my way up to his tip. In my mind, I was desperately working out exactly how much of him I’d be able to fit in my mouth without choking. Probably not even half. I was going to give it a fair go either way.

“And…” Mr. Smith was continuing in broken sentences, his gasps of pleasure permeating every fractured attempt. “...I may…”

I wrapped my lips around the crown of his cock and suckled, suppressing my smirk as he moaned deeply. His eyes closed, head rolling back pleasurably against the couch as I lapped at his slit, tasting the sourness of his precum as it oozed leisurely out of him. It really has been awhile since he last came. How did he manage to abstain for so long?

With one hand holding the base of his cock, I drew him deeper into my mouth, as far as I could take him without gagging. I didn’t think he would enjoy the sound; he struck me as the tender kind, and even Hange themself suggested as much. As I thought, I was barely able to service half his length effectively, my hand making up for the rest. 

“That feels… really good…” He moaned, his fingers inching into my hair. They stroked the strands, making my head tingle. 

“Ah… that’s good.” I licked my lips, wiping the saliva from them. I reached into my back pocket, and retrieved the foil packet waiting there (I always kept one in my pocket). Hooking it between my teeth, I tore it open, glancing up to make sure he was watching me. “Would you like to put it on while I lube up?”

“...Yes, of course.” Mr. Smith took the opened packet from me, but made no effort to roll it on himself. He was watching me as I stood up, taking the second packet from my other pocket out and unbuckling my own belt. Slipping my jeans off my hips, I kicked them to one side.

The glass top coffee table looked sturdy enough to hold my weight. Naked from the waist down, I sat on it carefully, then hooked my legs up, giving him a full view of what I was about to do. The glass was icy cold underneath me, sending a shiver through me as I pressed my ass down. 

Tube in hand, I lathered the gel over my fingers and reached down between my legs, circling my ass with a single finger.

“How’s this for a spectacular view?” I grinned, the expression quickly cleared from my face as I pushed my finger into myself. I whimpered, unable to help myself, as much as I was putting on a show. My cock was hard already, twitching as I eased my finger in and out of myself, my eyes hazy as I watched Mr. Smith, his attention focused on me. All of me; he didn’t seem to know quite what to look at. 

I worked myself up to the second finger, spreading myself wide in preparation to take his thick cock. I don’t think I’d ever taken one quite his size before, and in the back of my mind, I was a little apprehensive. 

Over the sound of my panting whimpers, I heard the foil wrapper. Opening my eyes, I watched as Mr. Smith rolled the condom over himself, smoothing down his length. I guess his mind was made up; whoever was in his mind at the beginning, they were surely gone now. I’d be certain to erase them  _ permanently _ , too.

“...Come here.” Mr. Smith beckoned me. He loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt. Relaxed, he leaned back into the couch, inviting me with more than his words to join him. 

Wasting no time, I pulled my fingers out of myself and pushed up from the table, easing myself back into his lap. He gripped the hem of my shirt, tugging it off over my head. His wide palms stroked my sides, his thumbs brushing over my nipples and sending a wave of pleasure through me.

I rested my hands back on his shoulders, my thighs gripping his tightly, his cock rubbing against my ass. 

“I want you… inside me…” I moaned, my head tilted back as he circled my nipples over and over with his thumbs, a thousand electric currents sparking down my back and straight into my groin. I was hard, an aching throb so strong it was driving me to distraction. Reaching behind me, I took his cock back into my hand, guiding the tip to nudge against my hole. Even that was enough to make me whimper. 

His hands abandoned my nipples altogether then, sliding down to my hips instead. I felt small in his grasp, like a doll, easily broken. 

Guided by his hands, my body sunk down onto his waiting dick, taking him into me inch by inch. I braced myself with my hands on his shoulders once enough of him was inside me, gripping him hard and gritting my teeth. He was  _ huge _ , and damn, was I aware of it.

“Hng…ahh…” I panted, my head falling forward, eyes closed. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, himself breathless. I must have been squeezing him quite firmly.

“M-Mhm...j-just… give me a moment…” I shouldn’t have been so keen to get on him. I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow at this rate, especially not if he decided to take matters into his own hands. With a deep breath I forced my muscles to relax as best they could, taking in the last of him. I’d never been so full before, the sensation peculiar - similar to how my first time doing this felt, I suppose. Much the same, I’m sure I would get used to him, too. 

I was about to lift my hips when his arms circled around me, pulling me close, ceasing any inclination to move. He held me tight to him, so closely I could faintly feel the beat of his heart. His chin rested on my shoulder, leaning into me. 

How long… and he been holding off?

I tangled my fingers into his hair, massaging his head soothingly, silently telling him to take his time. I was in no hurry, and I could tell he needed this. To be close to someone, to revel in shared affection, to be apart of someone’s life intimately, if only temporarily. 

With a soft sigh, I began to grind my hips onto him, the motion slow and sensual. He still held me close, melting into me with every rise and fall of my hips, his soft gasps falling hotly on my naked shoulder. 

I couldn’t help my own whimpers, my body struggling to adjust to his size. He was stretching me open, filling me entirely, but it was strangely satisfying to feel him completely inside me. 

“Kiss me.” I shifted away from him, cradling the nape of his neck with my hands I held him there, and pressed my lips to his. It was gentle, a soft brushing of our lips together, my hips rolling onto his never ceasing as I claimed his mouth. As our lips parted we snatched in heated breaths, only to come together again, seeking each other’s affections. 

“Please… say my name…” He whispered hotly, breaking from my kiss momentarily. “Please say it.”

“Mr. Smith…?”

“No… my _name_. Erwin. Say Erwin.”

“...Erwin…” 

“Like that… yes…”

“Erwin…” I breathed the syllables out, barely more than a whisper, and hoped it reached him. He was clinging to me, guiding my hips along his length, quickening my pace. I dotted kisses over his face, soft and fleeting like the first drops of rain. I cradled his cheeks in my hands, watching his closed eyes flutter, his short, thick brows knitting tightly together as he climbed to his climax.

“Erwin… Erwin…” I cooed his name, timing it with the motion of our hips until I felt him still, his cock twitching deep inside me. “Ah-...”

Cradling him to me, I stroked his hair as he began to tremor, the onset of his tears nothing of a surprise. 

“Thank you… thank you… thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well!?
> 
> How was it...? 
> 
> Please don't hesitate to leave your feedback in the comments. I absolutely love reading your comments!
> 
> See you soon!


	28. In The Doc House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been brimming with excitement for this chapter for months. It's dedicated to a friend of mine, who hates me for making her choose Nile Doc without realising she was choosing Nile Doc for this chapter.

Coming home, the house was dark, empty and uninviting. There was no light on in the living room, no welcoming glow of warmth, and no threat of having my balls roasted by Mikasa. Opening the front door, I waited for the sound of fingers tapping a keyboard, the scribble of a pen taking notes, the barely audible sigh as my sister noted what time I was coming home.

Instead, there was nothing. Nothing at all.

“This sucks.” I said out loud, half-hoping someone would reply, and being only partially relieved when they didn’t. I guess I wanted her softly spoken voice to come out from nowhere, asking me why I was talking to myself all of a sudden. It was a similar feeling to when mom died, the anticipation that she was somehow still here, despite knowing she would never again answer my call.

I could always text Mikasa, and I knew that she would reply. No matter the hour, there would come the response in minutes. I had to hold onto that at least, and for that I was very lucky.

I just didn’t realize it when it was right in front of me.

Flipping the hall light on, I took myself to the kitchen, ignoring the buildup of dishes already collecting on the counter.

I poured myself a glass of water and downed it, leaning on the side, thoughts of the evening buzzing around my head when thinking of my far away sister became too much. Thoughts of Mr. Smith - of _Erwin_ \- and the Corporal, whom I’d seen a short while before him. The similarities between them proved how shared the problems of people were. We were all inextricably connected, one way or another.

On the one hand, the Corporal was secluded in his loneliness resulting from his inability to connect physically, calling on me to help him overcome it. For Erwin, his abstinence was self-inflicted, resulting from what I presumed was unrequited love, and his reason for seeing me was for some relief from that. They both sought a connection with someone else. I was glad to be the one to provide it, too.

Oddly enough, these two men made me feel like I was somehow _helping_ others.

I laughed at that thought, placing my glass down with the rest of the unwashed dishes. I’d gone from saving up to travel, to a noble a cause as helping people.

Fucking hell, Yeager.

It was time for bed.

It was definitely time for bed.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, I woke up sore. My hips ached, and the muscles in my thighs complained the moment I tried to climb out of bed. I groaned, rubbing at my eyes and swiped my finger across the screen of my phone to silence the alarm. It was time to go get ready for a day of education. A day I was not at all prepared to go through.

The bathroom was free, no scent of sweet strawberry shampoo clinging to the warm air. It was cold, a shiver running through me as I stepped up to the toilet.

My my morning routine passed by sluggishly. Foregoing breakfast entirely, I dashed out the door as Armin honked for the second time. If he noticed the dark circles under my eyes, he didn’t mention it. Thank God for little mercies.

He’d stepped off my back since Mikasa left, his little comments and probing questions dropped completely. That little drama all cleared up rather nicely; in fact, he hadn’t even mentioned Hange.

“Morning.” I grunted, resting my head on the headrest and closing my eyes.

“Morning. How have things been?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Quiet. It’s not the same.”

I felt the car move off, the judder as Armin changed gears. “So long as you’re still taking care of yourself. You _are_ taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”

“It’s not even been a week, how bad can it get?” I asked casually.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that.” I cracked open an eye at that, catching the quick smile as it graced his lips before he managed to hide it. Well, so long as he wasn’t probing about what I got up to in my spare time, I had no cause to complain.

Once at school, I parted ways with him, leaving him in the capable hands of Jean and sauntering off in the direction of my first lesson. I was hardly awake, yawning several times as I walked along the corridor, doubling back as I walked clean past the door I was meant to go through.

Luckily, Mr. Shadis was too busy screaming at another student to notice my mistake, and I was able to slide into my seat without a fuss. I spent the entire lesson fighting to keep my eyes open, the startling rush of Shadis’ raised voice the only thing keeping me truly awake. I don’t know how exactly I made it through his lesson unscathed, but I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.

As soon as the bell rang, I felt the life return to me long enough to carry me to my next lesson.

Lunchtime was a welcome relief, and it didn’t come soon enough. 

I found the table Jean and Armin occupied, my tray of cafeteria fries garnering equal looks of confusion and distaste from them both. I shrugged it off, mumbling that I forgot to make lunch for myself this morning.

“Hey, Eren?”

I looked up from my fries at the sound of my name, having lost myself to my thoughts. I was doing that a lot lately. I’d never had so much to think about, I suppose. “What’s up?”

“Would you like to… meet up on Friday or something?”

Shit. 

“Ah… I have plans Friday. Saturday is good, if you like?” If Hange didn’t give me something (someone) to do, that is.

“That sounds great!” Armin’s face lit up, and I swear both me and Jean were having a moment at the sight of it. “I’ll buy the pizza this time, since you got it last time.”

That was when Mikasa was still here. Her last evening with us, when we played on those god damn swings. Luckily, Armin didn’t mention that little mishap in front of Jean.

“I could do with the company.” I said, smiling back a fraction of what he was. It was impossible to match his enthusiasm. I stole a glance at Jean, and I swear he looked a little green at Armin’s joy. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I got a slight kick out of that. _Hah, up yours, bastard._ Unsettling Jean was, and always would be, one of life’s little pleasures. He was just one of those people, the ones that got your back up by breathing. They didn’t do anything specifically; existing was enough.

I was doing better at getting on with him, though. Maybe because he was being somewhat quiet today, I found his presence not all that bothersome despite my overwhelming tiredness.

We finalized plans. Jean sat silently throughout, eating his sandwich and making himself generally as invisible as possible. I could totally get used to him being like that, if this was going to be a permanent change.

I perked up for the afternoon now that I had plans to see Armin. Last weekend made me realize I didn’t spend enough time with him. I was missing out on important things, and it was entirely my fault, too. Time to get back on track!

Twenty minutes into my afternoon lesson, and I was lagging again. Annie shrugged her shoulders, disinterested as much as I was. I learned more about her and her interests than I did science. For example, her dad was a fighting instructor, and he taught Annie several self-defence techniques. I casually asked her to teach me too. She scoffed at my request, but told me if I was serious, to meet her after class sometime. I may take her up on that, you know. Not today, but one day soon. It may come in handy.

Coming home, I slumped onto the couch with a sigh, my books out on the coffee table, with the intent to do homework fizzling out as I fell asleep instead. I woke up a few hours later, a neat puddle of drool on my arm. I’d have to come up with a decent excuse not to see Mr. Smith on a Wednesday. It was bad enough with the Corporal, and the time spent with him was considerably less physically demanding.

No, I couldn’t be doing this again.

 

* * *

 

 

Tonight I was stepping through another shiny lobby, en route to my appointment with Mr. Doc. Not as luxurious as Mr. Smith’s lodgings, they were still at the upper end of expense, and I wondered what kind of man I was meeting tonight.

Behind the reception desk, I was greeted warmly on my way passed by a man whose everything was well trimmed; his hair, his suit, his mannerisms. I barely glanced his way and headed straight for the elevator. I wasn’t about to make the same blundering mistake as I did last time. Hange forwarded me the room number, and I knew exactly where to go.

Ten floors up and outside dark brown door with a gold number on it I knocked discreetly. From inside I heard movement, muffled footsteps and finally the latch on the door releasing.

“Hi, there.” I said cheerily as the man inside peered out at me. He was much taller than I was. “Mr. Doc?”

“Who're you?” He said gruffly through the tiny slit he opened in the door. A cautious one.

“Hange sent me.”

That did it. He opened the door fully and beckoned me in.

“You're kind of cute.” He said, closing the door behind me. I rolled my hips as I made my way to the center of the room, getting a feel for the space. There was a large, comfortable bed to the left, opposite it a vanity table with a mirror, no doubt offering a great view of the bed. Beneath the vanity was a built in mini-fridge.

“You're pretty handsome yourself.” I said, turning to glance at him over my shoulder. He wasn't. I was lying.

“Here.” He held up an envelope. I took it from him, briefly glancing at the amount inside before tucking it away. “I don’t normally do this kind of thing.”

My smile was faint, knowing. _Of course you don’t._

“It’s all discreet, right?”

“Absolutely. No one is going to know.”

He was relieved at that, his shoulders slacking as the weight lifted from them.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

He sat himself down on the vanity chair, watching me with his small eyes. He was average in almost every single aspect. He wasn’t extraordinarily tall, slender, unshaven but neat looking, His face was long, narrow, and his cheeks razor sharp. I suspected he had a little to drink prior to my arrival, some liquid courage to go ahead with the booking, the shot glass on the table by his hand the giveaway.

I guessed his age to be late twenties to early thirties. He wore smart pants and his pale blue shirt was partially unbuttoned. Despite his relaxed attire, I could tell he was still a little tense.

The text from Hange revealed no specific instruction. I was here for only an hour, but that wasn't surprising. New clients hardly booked for longer periods in case I failed to fulfill their appetite (the only one-offs tended to be for birthdays and the like, otherwise my track record was pretty damn good).

He was eyeing me up and down slowly, letting his eyes drink in the sight of me, and then finally he spoke.

“What can you do?”

“Almost anything.” I teased.

“You good with your mouth?”

I nodded, licking my lips. He wasn’t wasting his hour. “You want me to blow you?”

He nodded, shifting in his seat, hands flying excitedly to his belt.

“Allow me,” I purred, sinking to my knees in front of him, covering his hands with mine. With the clasp of his belt undone, I gingerly rubbed at his growing erection through his pants, sizing him up with my palm. “Getting excited already, aren't we?”

He breathed in sharply, clutching the sides of the chair as my fingers felt the outlines of his cock. He was long and thin, my least favorite. He was the total opposite of Mr. Smith, though blowing him wasn’t easy either, it would’ve been more gentle to ride Doc than him.

With my gaze locked onto his, I took out his cock from his pants, smoothing my palm along the length languorously. It gave an appreciative twitch, a droplet of precum leaking out of the tip. No foreskin. Fair enough. They were cleaner to work with.

“You like that?” I asked, looking up with rounded eyes.

“Just shut up and put it in your mouth already.” He panted.

I obeyed immediately, opening my mouth wide and sinking his tip between my lips. The heat of my mouth wrapped around him, and he groaned deeply, head rolling back as his length escaped down the back of my throat. I could just about manage him entirely.

Pulling back with a gasp, I glanced at his member, now coated in a fine layer of my saliva.

“Do it again.” He ordered, a hoarse whisper. It wasn't the least surprising when his fingers found their way into my hair, gently pushing on my head, guiding his length back into my throat. I closed my eyes, relaxing as much as possible as he moved my head for me, setting the pace to his liking.

As he hit the back of my throat for seconds at a time, thick saliva spilled from my lips. It was sloppy and messy and exactly what he was after, judging by how his hips began to twitch up to meet the downward motion of my mouth.

I began to contemplate this man whose dick was lodged in my mouth. I wondered who he was, why he’d come to hire me tonight. I didn’t normally stop to question it, to think of them as anything really, but my recent encounters had me reconsidering.

His cock was vanishing down my throat, and I took it, all the while thinking if his wife knew where he was. I knew this guy was married. There was no way he wasn’t. He had that fatigued air of a worn-out family man, the wrinkles around his eyes too deeply set for a man of his age. One kid, or two? Hard to be sure. It wasn’t my business why he wanted to fuck another guy’s mouth. Yet still, I couldn’t help the curiousity. Maybe he was out of town on business and was bored - that said, hadn’t he tried to book me previously? Maybe he was local and bored, with money and sexual energy to burn.

From above, his heated sighs rained down, his hawk-like eyes watching me as I slobbered over his cock. I could taste the bitterness of his pleasure as it seeped out onto my tongue, a prelude for what was sure to follow, and it drew me from the depths of my thoughts.

He was going to come soon. The only question that remained was where he wanted it to go. My face or down my throat? Either was fine by me.

“Ah... yeah, like that... Keep it like that...” He breathed hard, forcing my head down on him until my throat closed and I gagged. A fresh batch of foamy saliva erupted from my mouth and he let me go to catch my breath. He was admiring the flushed complexion, the tears prickling at my eyes.

“Fuck... fuck...” He pushed me back, getting to his wobbly legs to stand over me. He looked down at me, at my large, wide eyes and open, hungry mouth. He palmed his cock hard, remnants of my drool making his movements slick. The sound was overtly lewd, challenged only by his grunting as he neared his orgasm.

“Hng...!”

Most of it missed my mouth (thankfully). His come splashed hotly over my cheeks, the last of it catching my tongue. He pushed his cock back inside the slippery wetness for the final spurt, withdrawing only when he was sure none was left in him. I held my tongue out, displaying the creamy white fluid like a trophy, and swallowed it down in a single gulp.

“That was delicious.” I cooed. I was lying. It was disgusting. Thick, bitter and totally gross, but no man wanted to hear that.

With my fingers I traced the remainder of it off my cheeks and nose, licked them clean as he watched me feverishly. His chest heaved with his breathing, sweat darkening the blue of his shirt. His forehead glistened with moisture, and he ran a hand through his hair as he slumped back into the chair, spent. The shadow of guilt was already creeping over his face, aging him considerably and chasing away any trace of handsomeness he may have had. He no longer looked at me with the lusty intent from earlier, he no longer looked at me at all.  

I climbed to my feet, my legs a little numb from kneeling so long, and excused myself.

Once in the bathroom I cleaned my face off properly and rinsed my mouth out. The cool water was refreshing, though not enough to wash the salt of his come out entirely. I needed to start bringing a toothbrush and some paste with me, just in case. It didn't taste bad. It didn't taste too good either.

When I was done freshening up, Doc was standing, and in his hands were a few extra bills.

“I'll book longer next time.” He said, drawing me awkwardly into his arms. He lightly kissed at my lips, and I was right; the fuzz on his face tickled me.

“I enjoyed it.” I said, smoothing out his hair. I wondered what he would do to me the next time we met, and the thought made me cold inside.

I gathered up the tip – I loved earning tips – and headed for the door. I gave him one last, lingering look and bid him good night.

The hour was up and I was keen to get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was alright, especially following Erwin's chapter. 
> 
> As always, I look forward to reading any of your comments and if you haven't yet, maybe consider leaving a kudos if you liked my work so far!
> 
> I'll see you all next week.


	29. Indecent Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for returning for yet another chapter.
> 
> Just a warning, I'm on some new medications now that induce migraines... and being prone to them already, I'm suffering :') 
> 
> Please be patient. I will resume as soon as I possibly can.

I stared at my phone, had been staring at it so long the screen was no longer lit up, the cursed words unreadable. I didn’t need to read them a second time. The first time was more than enough, the message scorched into my memory. I felt each damnable letter burn into me, the scent of burning flesh filling my nostrils. Okay, that was a little dramatic, I’ll admit. Even so, my situation was far from good.

Hange was trying to have me crucified. There was no other explanation for the torment they were so skillfully inflicting upon me.

The first message came shortly after I let them know I was back from my appointment with Doc. As much as I tried to fight it, they had me cornered, and by the third message I was forced to concede. With a lengthy sigh, I swiped my thumb over my screen to wake it up, and tapped out a reluctant agreement. 

My plans with Armin… would have to be cancelled. 

I’d been looking forward to our meet up. 

The last evening with Mikasa had been awesome, the three of us together, our cares a million miles away.  Even though she was back at her place now, it would have been good to spend time with Armin. I was looking forward to having the chance at being a better friend to him, because we all know I’d been neglecting him for the longest time. For whatever reason, I’d been pretty shitty lately. 

And it looked like the end to that was far from in sight. If anything, the way there just got a load murkier. 

Hange was insisting I take the booking. New customers were pouring in, and weekends were primarily the only time I worked. You know, secret bookings aside. 

Ugh. It seemed everywhere I turned, there were lies. I hated lies, yet here I was, cloaked head to toe in them. It was like I’d stumbled into a web; each lie clung to me, sticky and suffocating, restricting me from moving freely. I dreaded to think about the spider coming for me, attracted by my constant wriggling for freedom. 

I’d lied to Armin too much already. I’d be lying to him more, the text I’d been writing and erasing over for the past few minutes full of more lies. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I had a few days to sit on it, to think of a good enough reason. As I thought that way, I hated myself more. Plotting my lie made it worse somehow. Fuck, when did I allow myself to become this person?

_ Maybe I’d always been this person. _

I let my phone slide carelessly from my hand, clanking onto the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to check if it was damaged, rolling over to the face the wall, or more accurately, scowl at it. 

All around me, the cacophony of the house as it settled rang in my ears, an orchestra of worthless sounds that did nothing to ease my loneliness or guilt. I should’ve been familiar with all the sounds of this house, but I wasn’t. Every creak and clang was different from the last, and different once more now that Mikasa wasn’t here to add to the mix. It’s funny, really. 

When she was here, I barely registered the soft pad of her feet as she moved between rooms, the click of the bathroom light, the rattle of jars as the fridge door swung shut. Things were back to how they were before she came. You know, with me a neglectful ass to my friends. Shit. I couldn’t sleep like this.

Though it would probably piss him off if I woke him up, I felt compelled to to correct things,  as if the sooner I did it the less guilt I would have to carry. 

Rolling back onto my other side, I fumbled around for my phone, growing increasingly annoyed as I struggled to blindly locate it. How fucking far could it have gone, anyway? Fuck’s sake, I had it a moment ag- found it.

Still, I didn’t know what excuse I was going to give. Work? Hange? Did I even need an excuse? We were friends, weren’t we? I would casually call him up and ask to reschedule. 

No big deal.

I pressed my thumb onto the flat screen, my eyes shrinking back in terror at the fierce glare, making me wonder if Shadis was a walking horror story for using your phone too much in the dark.

_ Something came up. I’m real sorry. Can we do next weekend?  _ Just like that. Nice and easy.

Squinting out from my newly sized eyes, I hit the little green dial button and pressed my phone to my ear.  With each ring I felt my breaths catch in my throat, ready to spew my apologies - completely casually - down the line.

It rang, and rang, and rang. I began to imagine Armin waking up, rubbing his eyes, and searching for his phone in a sleepy haze.

I should hang up. My resolve was already fleeing, like a worthless soldier hyped on heroism until faced with real danger.

It would have to wait until morning, like any normal person would do.

_ Click. _

_ “Hello?” _

I used a little too much force in putting the phone back to my ear. Armin sounded gruff and tired, like I had just woken him. Of course, that was accurate. “Ah, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I couldn’t sleep thinking about our plans and I needed to call you and…”

_ “You stopped me taking a shit to be mushy?” _

That took the wind out of my sails. Instead, my ship had dropped anchor and I felt it sink all the way into my belly. “I… what?”

A sigh crackled the line.  _ “Do you often call clients at late hours to express your excitement, or should I be flattered?” _

This wasn’t Armin. My mind was able to conclude that much before it shot off screaming, the realisation of my mistake sinking like a weighted body. Eren Yeager, you are single handedly the biggest fuck up on the planet. 

“C-Corporal?” I squeaked. 

_ “You’re an idiot.” _

“I am… so sorry… I didn’t… I must have misdialed…” I felt sick to my stomach, the 180 on my emotions leaving me uneasy. The anxiety of lying to Armin dissipated, melting into a confusing mixture of… whatever _ this _ was. I was, on some level, excited to hear his voice. Over the phone, the delicate lilt of his voice was thinner, but it was still enough to set my heart racing. 

_ “You’re up late. You need to sleep.” _

“I’m… you’re also up, Sir. You should be asleep too.”

_ “Maybe I would be if some idiot hadn’t called me.” _

“Ah… yeah…”

_ “It can’t be helped, I suppose.”  _ He paused, and I clung to the phone like it was a rope, hanging for his next words.  _ “Is everything okay?” _

I  hadn’t expected his concern. It kicked the chair out from beneath me, my feet dangling uselessly and my mouth fighting to speak the words caught in my strangled throat. For a moment, I completely forgot the reason I was on the phone in the first place. One taste of the Corporal’s voice and my fears and worries were a million miles from me. I was untouchable.

It was an overwhelmingly dangerous sensation. 

_ “Did you fall asleep on me, you shitty brat?” _

“Ah! No, Sir! Sorry… I… everything is fine.” 

It was now, anyway.  I wanted to keep him talking, too reluctant to let the call end and return to my problems. It’s not that I was using him entirely as escapism, mind you. He did something to me, something that made me feel alive, something that made my heart beat erratically and a light headedness come over me. It was impossible not to want to spend my time with him; he was my drug, and I was slowly growing addicted to the high he gave me. My infatuation was worsening, I know, I knew it all too well. I didn’t want to do anything about it. 

I wanted to see where it would leave me, even if that place was a broken heart. I hadn’t forgotten he was working to improve himself for someone else.

“Hey, Sir… since I’m talking to you now… I have an idea to share with you.”

_ “Another one? Do I really want to hear it?” _

“Have you ever tried phone sex, Sir?”

If it was at all possible, I swear to god I heard his eyebrow lift. At around the same time, my balls ascended back from whence they came, and my ass tightened so swiftly I feared it would again create a vacuum effect. If only my mouth was quick enough to close before the words came out, I would be okay. I would not be suffering this deep silence, the only indication he was still there the absence of the dial tone. 

If I listened extra hard - and I was now - I could just make out his annoyed breathing.

_ “...I’ll see you at the usual time on Wednesday.” _

There was the dial tone.

It sounded like a flatlining heart machine, and if I didn’t feel mine beating down the door of my ribs, I’d be sure it was accurate of my own heart. Well, it wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a yes, either, but I preferred my glass to be half full. 

I let my phone rest on my chest, staring up at the ceiling as my problems found their way back to me. I still needed to cancel my plans with Armin, and allowing myself to be distracted by the Corporal made me feel even worse about things. So long as i sorted it out before Wednesday, I would allow myself a clear conscience. I needed to focus on getting some sleep tonight, as I was sure by now Armin would definitely not appreciate a call (and that was most certainly not me putting things off), leaving me nothing else to do but go to bed. 

I put my phone on my bedside cabinet, absently opened the drawer and retrieved the bottle of cologne I stored there. The oval shaped bottle was cold in my hand, or maybe I was warm? 

A few sprays onto my pillow, and I was transported into the Corporal’s apartment. I breathed him in deeply, my eyes drifting closed as I imagined being with him, as soon I would be. Not soon enough for my liking, however.

 

* * *

 

 

The Corporal was sitting in his chair, positioned at the foot of his bed. He had one leg folded over the other neatly, one arm draped over the backrest, looking both relaxed and uptight simultaneously. 

I was back here, in his apartment, on his bed. Things were escalating quickly now that I was here, our relationship (if you could call it that) taking steps I didn’t expect so soon. 

He still wouldn’t touch me. 

Not with his hands. 

His voice, though, was touching me in ways I never thought possible.

“Lift your shirt.” He said, his voice sultry and alluring. It made me shiver, even before my fingers found the hem of my shirt. I rolled it up my abdomen as instructed, exposing the lightly defined muscles to the dim lighting and more importantly, his unyielding gaze.

I could see his attention flicker, soaking in the view I offered him. I wanted to show him more, though that would undoubtedly come in good time. Did he like what he saw now, at least?

I tucked the fabric beneath my chin, noting how my breathing was already offbeat and unsteady. Just like that, with a single command, my body reacted keenly. I stopped breathing altogether for a second when his next order came. 

“Touch yourself.”

Whether I wanted to or not, my hands didn’t hesitate to take up the instruction. Releasing my shirt, my fingers moved downward, starting at my collarbone and graduating left and right to my hardening nipples. They weren’t all that sensitive. That is, unless the object of my desire was watching me closely. Knowing his eyes traced every movement made my body come alive in ways I didn’t know it could, so that when I lightly brushed over my own nipples, I had to suppress the moan that threatened to spill out of me.

I bit down hard on my lip to distract myself from the ticklish pleasure I received, my index fingers circling around and around.  

“Do it slowly.” He told me, and instantly my fingers slowed down. It was agony, my body straining for something more satisfying. 

“How does it feel?”

Heated and heavy, my labored breath concealed a barely audible reply. “F-feels good, Corporal…”

My finger was tracing circles around my hardening nipple, making my back arch off the bed, seeking out more than I was able to give.  I was whimpering, incoherently pleading for him to let me do more.

This was the interaction I’d craved from him. That it would happen tonight was inconceivable, my head spinning even as it sunk into the softness of his feathery pillows. How far would he take this, I wondered?

“Do it again, to the other one. Lick your fingertip first this time.”

It felt so dirty, to lick and suck at my finger hungrily, until it dripped with my saliva. I placed it back onto my nipple, the cool wetness making my breath hitch. I circled, and circled until I could stand it no more.

I hissed as my nail scraped over my nipple, the electric pulse of arousal enough to make me dizzy. I was hard already, my cock jutting out from my hips and desperate for attention. I was being made to wait for that, and the dual pain and excitement was excruciating to bear. 

With both hands I toyed and pulled and played with my nipples, torturing myself as I silently pleaded to touch myself further down. The Corporal was adamant that I had to wait, and through heavy lids I could see how  he watched me, gaze intent and focused. I was writhing and twisting and making a mess of his sheets, desperate in divine dismay to lower my hands. 

My back arched upwards in a perfect curve, reaching for the heavens in search of retribution from my torment. 

“You’re making quite the scene there.” He taunted.

“Ah, I want… I want…” I panted, my eyes closing tightly as I forgot myself, where I was and almost,  _ almost _ who I was with. 

I heard him release a quick breath through his nose. “Spit it out, or I won’t know what you’re asking for.”

“P-Please, Sir… ahh…” I stammered, pulling particularly hard on my nipples, biting down into my lip as the pleasure spiralled up from my abdomen. “I want…”

“Say it.”

“I want to touch it…” I whined, blushing furiously as I said it. 

“Touch what, brat?”

“I want to touch my cock… please…”

Opening my eyes, I could see his face clearly, the upward tilt of his lip, the amusement in his eyes. He smirked at me, and my depravity and how quickly I’d been reduced to this mess.

I could barely keep myself in check when he granted me the permission I sought. 

I walked my fingers down my rippling abdomen, until I felt them nudge my twitching cock, the moan tearing from my lips unadulterated. I needed this more than I needed to breathe.

A sliver of precum oozed invitingly from my tip, drizzling over my fingers as I traced one along my length. I shivered, restraining myself from wrapping my fingers around myself, lest the Corporal remove the privilege.

I was drenched in sweat, the sheets soaked beneath me as I bucked and thrust my hips upwards eagerly to meet my evasive fingers. I hoped he enjoyed the show.

“Fuck, C-Corporal…!” I sucked air between my teeth, gritted tightly as I fought to keep myself going. Finally giving myself the pleasure I longed for, my trembling hand gripped my cock. 

My strokes were languorous and deep, running the full length and gliding back down, a steady rhythm that worked me quickly to the brink.

“Hng...ah...nhn….” I barely recognized my own voice. “I need… to…”

“Ask for it.”

“S-Sir… please… let me come…”

My whole body stood on the precipice, waited with baited breath for the moment of the long awaited release. I practically hummed with the need, my muscles tensing every other second, threatening to let go before given the word. Several times I felt it, and several times I held myself back, fighting it off for as long as possible. I wanted - no, I  _ needed _ him to give me permission first. And until I had that, I wouldn’t let myself come.

Lucky for me, he was in a giving mood.

“Come for me, Eren.”

“Ah-!” I moaned loudly, my head falling back into the pillow, my face pushing into the fibers to fill my senses with his scent. I was coming hard, too hard, my body thrown into a violent spasm as wave upon wave of euphoric rapture washed over me. In my hand I felt my cock pulse, coating my torso in thick fluid. It splashed as high up as my chest, and by the last spurt I was completely spent, my body limp on the damp heat of my mattress.

My eyes shot open, the image of the Corporal and his apartment snapping away from me as I came to, my hand still wrapped around my dick. 

_ Fuck.  _

It’s been a long time since I had a wet dream.    


At least I wouldn't have to worry about hiding my dirty sheets, and it was with that thought I sluggishly began tugging them off the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Did I sort my shit out by Wednesday? Like fuck did I. 

I put it off, conducting pleasantries to and from school and at lunch with Armin, all the while pretending like the weekend couldn’t come fast enough. Each word from my mouth was like poison, and since it was all Armin wanted to discuss, I was surely going to cease to exist soon. Alas, my luck was out on that, and my punishment was instead being forced to carry on living my pitiful existence.

By tonight I could escape to the Corporal’s house. I… tried not to think about my ludicrous suggestion from the other night, but it seemed even my safehaven was crumbling, too. 

Karma was a bitch, and she had it out for me. 

“It’ll be fun,” Armin was saying, drumming his fingers excitedly on the steering wheel as surely as if he was hammering the final nails into my coffin, “Maybe we can ord-”

“I can’t… go.” I hung my head, unable to look at him, too much of a coward to see the crestfallen Armin with my own two eyes. “Armin, I’m so sorry. I can’t.” 

He stopped talking. He stopped drumming, he stopped bouncing - he stopped being  _ excited _ . 

“Oh. That’s a shame.” 

He sounded disappointed, though I could tell he tried to mask it. 

My guilt ate me up inside. I could feel it shrivel and blacken my innards. I needed to do something, if only to assuage my own feelings.

“Armin…” I stared down at my hands, clenched together in my lap. My knuckles were white. I wanted to punch something. Myself, namely, for being so shitty to this guy. I was officially worse than Jean. “I want to make it up to you somehow. I don’t know how yet, or if you’ll even let me.”

“Eren.”

“But I don’t mean to let you down like this. I want to be better.”

“Eren.”

“You are such a good friend to me and I keep falling short of the mark. I’m sorry, I will -”

“Eren, shut up.” Armin snapped, stunning me effectively into silence. “You always talk too much. Listen to me; it’s fine. We can just schedule for another time. It’s not that big of a deal, is it?”

“Ah… uh… I guess…” My rambling came to an abrupt halt. I stole a look at him, at his consoling expression, golden eyebrows drawn together over worried waters. Just like that, he acted as if everything was alright. I… really made such a fuss over nothing?

“Yeah… that sounds good.” I was dazed from the relief of not having to fathom up an excuse, and his highly agreeable response to my cancellation. After waiting a few days to tell him, I wished I’d had the courage sooner and not wasted so long worrying over nothing. Ah, well. That was the story of my life.

I fumbled for the handle before Armin could change his mind. “I’ll make it up to you, Armin.” I said, easing myself out the car, my bag clutched in my free hand.

“Sure. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now. Well, when don’t you?” He laughed, but I could tell it was a little strained. “Go on. I’m meeting Jean soon and I don’t want to be late.”

“Thanks, Armin. For always being so understanding.” 

“Just… remember this. No matter what, I’m your friend.” 

With his slightly unnerving words said, Armin drove off, leaving me standing outside my house, bewildered. Clutching my bag, I gathered my fragmented feelings together and turned toward home.

There were a few hours until I was due back at the Corporal’s. With no one else to see tonight, I was free to concentrate entirely on him. Thinking of him put a spring in my step, my awkward feelings over Armin falling to the side as excitement set in instead. It really was impossible for me to be fazed by anything when I thought of being with the Corporal. Not even my really difficult Math homework was able to curb my enthusiasm for the night ahead. I completed it with gusto, the rare feeling of satisfaction at being ahead in my studies a welcome change to the norm. 

Assignments done, I went about getting ready for my evening with the Corporal. 

I was in the shower when it came back to me. I remembered the stupid-ass thing I asked him on the phone the other night. That stupid idea that popped into my head, disguised as a genuinely  _ good _ idea, that in reality was another of my bad ones. 

The tiles were cold as I pressed my head to them, cringing as the way he ended the call rattled in my mind on permanent replay. Why the fuck had I asked him that? In our first phone call, no less. There truly was no help for me. 

To make matters worse, my wet dream about him was still playing on my mind. It had been so real, I couldn’t shake the feeling off that it really happened. 

This was going to be fucking awkward. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much look forward to reading any comments, and if you haven't already, please consider leaving a kudos if you like what you've read so far.
> 
> Sincerely, I hope to be back soon!


	30. A Perfect Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my editors for helping me get this out.  
> I know I said I wouldn't, but I managed to chuck out another chapter to get ahead, so you guys get this today. I hope you like it - this is a chapter I thought about in my head for a very long time.

It was fucking awkward.

From the moment he opened the door and our eyes met, flashes of my heated dream played in my mind, bringing fresh color to my cheeks that probably didn’t go unnoticed. He ushered me inside, and I scurried past him, torn between wanting to be here with him and crawling down a black hole to escape. Since no black hole was in sight, and hurling myself out his window would leave one heck of a mess, I was doomed to my fate. 

It… was some time since I last felt like this. At least it was for very different reasons. Back then, I only masturbated over him once or twice while I was awake. Doing it in my sleep was a whole other level of debauchery, and spending the early hours of that morning doing laundry was a throwback to my earlier years I didn’t need. Not going to lie, I came pretty hard, my legs trembling as I tore off the soaked bed sheet and carried it downstairs. 

“Go get changed.” The Corporal’s curt tone pulled me from my thoughts. Uttering a response, I hurried off to the other room to change. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips as I looked at the brown jacket, the two crossed swords emblazoned on the back. One day, I would come into this room and it would be different. He’d told me as such, though how it would happen exactly, I couldn’t be sure. I tried not to dwell on it too much, as when that day came, our time would end. I pulled on my uniform quickly, and joined him in the main area.

Only, he wasn’t there.

“Corporal?” I asked the empty room, glancing across to the kitchen curiously. He wasn’t there either. Where did he go? The bathroom, perhaps?

He’d never left me alone like this before. I roamed the living room, a little lost without him there. I was intruding into his space, and my initial instinct was to stay still and wait for him to reappear. Even so, something told me to look for him. 

The bathroom door was open, and empty. That left only his bedroom.

“Sir?” I called out, lightly tapping my knuckles on the wooden frame. My heart began to beat erratically as I thought of my dream. This was all too closely connected, his room the last place I wanted to venture into with my promiscuous imagination still playing vividly the things we did in my head. This was dangerous territory. 

“Did you get lost on your way in here?” The Corporal barked, unimpressed as I finally pushed the door open. He was sitting on his side of the bed (did I technically have a side?). “Hurry up and come in.”

“Sorry…” I trailed inside, unsure what he expected of me. 

“...Sit down. Over here.”

“Yes, Sir.” My legs, as if made of wood, creaked as I walked across the room to the opposite side of the bed. I sat myself down, and at his further prompt, made myself comfortable. “Like this?”

“That’s fine.” He replied, shuffling down next to me until we lay side by side. “Don’t go getting any more funny ideas while you’re here.”

“Ha…” I wanted to laugh but it wouldn’t come. Instead, the sound was dry and forced, dying in my throat before it even had the chance to live. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to think about anything other than my dream. Which, of course, meant all I could think about was my dream. I swear to God, if the Corporal dragged that chair in here, I would exit stage left through the window. Thankfully, he seemed comfortable as he was, laying on his back the same as me.

“Tell me something.” He said, eyes focused ahead unfaltering. 

I thought for a moment, wondering what I should reply with. Perhaps revealing my wet dream was not the best choice, despite it being the first thing in my damned head. I cleared that away defiantly, and tried to think of something else. “If I tell you something, will you tell me something?”

“With your track record for asking dumb shit,” He paused, peeling his eyes from the ceiling long enough to set them on me instead, “Let’s see how it goes.”

I swallowed the lump of shame in my throat. It wouldn’t budge. It spread out, sticking thickly to my lungs and making breathing more difficult than it had to be. I was hoping he wouldn’t bring it up. 

Brushing the unpleasantry aside, I considered what to tell him. There was a great deal I wanted to know about him, that talking about myself seemed a waste of precious time. 

I was standing at the foot of a mountain, and with no equipment or instruction, told to climb. Where was the first foothold? 

Guess I had to start somewhere.

“I was born on March 30th.” I declared proudly. 

“Christmas Day.” He replied flatly.

“What? Really?” I turned my head in disbelief. “I don’t know if that’s extremely lucky or not. Did you get double the presents?”

“I don’t remember.” His response was spoken through tight lips, and I suddenly felt bad for asking. “Did your parents spoil you?”

“Not really. My mom… didn’t want me to grow up bratty.” Saying that, I realized it had been some time since I talked about her. I still missed her, I always would. I missed how her hair, a deep brown, could tickle my cheek when she bent down to tug my ear. “I got plenty of love, though.”

“I was expecting a tragic backstory from you, given what you do for a living.”

“My upbringing was good,” I said, a little offended by his comment. “I’m here because I want to be.”

“Is that so?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“What do you do for a living, Sir?”

“I work in an office. Nothing exciting.” 

I figured as much. “Standard office work, huh? It must pay well, at least?”

He shrugged, disinterested. “I busted my balls to get to the top, so I guess it does. I don’t really care all that much for it, being able to pay rent and eat well is enough.”

“I can relate to that.” I sighed, thinking of my father. When he was alive, things were simpler. When I said I was here because I wanted to be, it wasn’t a lie, not at all. I did want to be  _ here _ . Though the sad truth was I wasn’t still doing this kind of work purely for my own satisfaction. I needed it. Despite it all, I’d become a trope. I had a tragic backstory after all. 

Fuck that.

I refused to let it define me as a person. I refused. No way. Not in a million years would I let myself wallow in pity; the time for that had come and gone. I was moving forward with my life. That was my resolve. “Sir… do you remember the time when you… er… you comforted me?”

He looked away from me, a noise grumbling out from low in his throat.

“My father passed away.” I spoke quietly, still afraid of the words myself. Saying them out loud, I realized I’d come to some level of peace over it. I smiled, looking down at the bedsheet, muddling through my thoughts. “You asked me to tell you something, Sir, and I want you to know something more important than my birthday.”

“I’m sorry.” He paused, sighing deeply on his next words, “Losing a parent isn’t easy. At a young age, too.”

“You really helped me back then, Sir.” I spoke from the heart. It was as though it was all filled up and these words were just the overspill, all the things I couldn’t keep shut up inside myself. I needed him to know, for whatever reason, that he was important to me. I guess my stupid infatuation with him was worsening, and I, like the romantically inexperienced fool I was, didn’t know how to handle it. 

“If you’re expecting something from me, forget it. I didn’t even know what was up with you.” He said gruffly, and I could feel him retreating now that the conversation was deeper. 

I wouldn’t let him go that easily.

Yet I knew from past experiences, to push him was a bad idea. I was going about it more carefully this time, rolling onto my side to face him, trying not to smile as he folded his arms across his chest and stared pointedly ahead. I propped my head up on my arm, my elbow on the pillow. Looking up at him from below was certainly a new view, and I liked what I saw. His jawline in particular had my attention. Not even a hint of stubble.

“Tell me something about you.”

“There is nothing for you to know.” He replied curtly.

“That’s not true. There’s plenty I don’t know.” I was pouting at the rejection.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you.”

That stung.

I didn’t expect him to open up easily, yet his outright refusal to shed any light on who he was as a person struck me as cold. Even as I thought this, I also knew that there was no reason for him to tell me anything. I truly wasn’t anything to him, regardless of how much I wanted to be  _ something _ , which only made it hurt more.

“You’re one strange kid,” he sighed, “Fine. Since you seem to want it so much. I’ll tell you one thing.”

“Ah, really? Really, really?” My face lit up, the excitement whirling inside me. Anything, any one thing? What should I ask him? This was a golden ticket opportunity, and I wanted to use it wisely. I wouldn’t get a second chance at this. The possibilities were limitless. What would I choose?

“Then… what’s your favorite food?”

I think I surprised us both with my choice. The Corporal’s eyes widened the smallest amount, then shrunk back to normal. He clicked his tongue, looking away from me. 

“Is that seriously what you’re going to ask?” He contemplated his answer, leaving me time to mentally slap myself soundly several times. “I have a sweet tooth.”

“Corporal likes sweet things?” I repeated. “That’s actually really cu-”

“If you finish that sentence, I will personally see to it that your head is flushed down the toilet before you leave tonight.”

My mouth snapped shut hard enough to warrant a trip to the dentist for dentures. 

I learned something. I learned something about the Corporal. A tiny, little, seemingly insignificant nugget of information. He liked sweet things. 

I was smiling, like a fool, as I thought about that. 

And then he said something, something that made me sober up immediately. “Thank you.”

“...What for?”

“For not asking me something unimportant.”

“Corporal… knowing what you like is far from unimportant. To me, anyway.”

“Is that the charm that makes you so popular?” He asked, watching me carefully. I couldn’t read his expression. I wondered if that was a skill I would ever have. I hoped he would keep me around long enough to learn to read beyond what he wanted me to see (which was absolutely nothing). “Oi, stop staring at me. It’s creepy.”

“Ah! Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I forced my eyes back down to the bed sheet, my eyes following the plain grey threads as they were woven neatly together. I’d slept here a few nights ago, with him. I’d do anything for another chance at that. “...I don’t really consider myself to be popular.”

“Whether or not you think of yourself that way is irrelevant. It doesn’t change the fact that you are.”

“Are you… Are you complimenting me, Sir?”

I watched his jaw stiffen. “Is that what that sounded like to you?”

“Kind of. It’s hard to tell with you.” I snuck a look at him. He didn’t look amused at my attempt at a joke. I snorted anyway, an ugly sound I regretted instantly. “Sorry. I’m enjoying this, though. Getting to know you.”

“We’re spending more time with each other. It seemed like a good idea to try and know you more. Maybe it’s stupid after all. Meaningless.”

“No!” I sat up, propelled into motion by the fierceness of my own denial. “Don’t say that, please.”

“I don’t understand it myself.” His voice dropped low, forcing me to listen to him carefully. I did anyway, naturally leaning in and hanging on all of his sentences. “There really is no reason for me to learn about you. And yet...”

Our eyes met. My heart beat like thunder in my chest, and I could feel the electric current pulse through my veins every second. “And yet?” I prompted.

The longer he looked at me, the harder it became to breathe. The harder it became to think, to remember to blink, to anything. My normal functions were suddenly impossible burdens, and I threw them off without a care in favor of losing myself in him. 

“It might help me in the long run.”

I could see why they call it falling. Falling in love, that is. Because when you eventually hit the ground, it hurts. I came to a crashing halt, my face skidding on the floor. Lucky for me, my heart took the brunt of the damage. Of course. It was all for someone else.

Not for me.

“If it helps you, Sir,” I swallowed my feelings, plastering a small smile over the hole he’d blown in me, “I’ll do anything.”

I left the Corporal’s apartment that night a little worse for wear. 

Trudging down, I ignored the cab waiting for me, choosing instead to wander around, with nowhere in particular to go. I wasn’t ready to go home, to the empty house with nothing but my cold feelings to keep me company. I’d rather be out here, a face amongst the many, chilled from the bite of the wind and not my loneliness.

Things were confusing me. It was a swirling, whirling pool of grossness, and in the center of it all was the Corporal. It didn’t matter that I told myself he was involved with another person, my heart wouldn’t listen. It was drinking down the poison for the fleeting sweet taste it left. That’s how it felt, because whenever I let myself dream of the Corporal, of him having some kind of feeling for me, too, I felt my body choke on it. My longing for him was impossible, and I was powerless to stop myself, or  maybe I didn’t want to.

I kind of liked the feeling. The good side of it, anyway. But that was just it. There was always a bad side, waiting for me to stumble out of the light and into the dark. 

What was I going to do?

Reason told me, and not for the first time, to stop seeing him. Without Hange, I had no obligation to stay. He was, however, paying my rent. I should work harder for my  _ actual _ clients, then, and make it up that way. 

_ I don’t want to do that. _

And there it was. The real truth, the voice deep inside my head that spoke out whether I liked what it had to say or not.

I knew very well if he invited me back, I would run to him. If he asked me to stay the night, I would. I would stay all week, just to be by his side. I would go countless nights without sleep, wide awake as his arm snaked around my waist and pulling me close, closer than he would ever let me be while he was awake. I hadn’t forgotten that, the sensation of his warmth radiating into me, the feel of his toned but slender body nestled into mine. 

My blind exploration took me to a park, that in the darkness of the hour screamed horror movie murder. I followed the path, lit dimly by the street lights placed evenly along, until I found a bench. Sitting my ass down with a heavy sigh, I leaned back, peering at the sky and giving in to my thoughts. I knew I should be at home sleeping, but for a time I didn’t care. I was still young, I’d skip school altogether if I had to. No, I needed to get my studies back in order.

I’d worry about that later. Tonight, I needed to work out my feelings for the Corporal, and in order to do that, I needed the fresh air - to keep me sane, if nothing else.

The stars winked down at me from above, offering me nothing as I looked to the heavens for answers. I couldn’t see the moon from here, not that it would make a difference. I had to find the answer myself; no divine intervention was going to come my way, no matter how hard I prayed for it. I was on my own with this. No help from Mikasa, or Armin. I’d figure this  _ love _ bullshit out on my own. 

Somehow.

Or, you know, with the power of a search engine.

I hooked my phone out my pocket, switching on the data for the sole purpose of finding out the answer to my problem. I didn’t need divine answers in this day and age, not when I had my search engine of preference. 

I tapped out a quick search, ‘How do I know I’m in love?’ and browsed the results with distaste.  _ Thirteen Scientific Reasons. Take This Quiz. Am I In Love? - with pictures.  _ I was reluctant to look at any of it. I knew I was in love with him already. It didn’t take a genius to work it out, from the cologne I used on my pillow, my constant fantasies, how he made my body feel alive whenever he touched me. I’d never felt anything like it before, and nothing even remotely compared to the sensation of his fingers on my skin, as fleeting as it was. 

No, I needed the answer to a different question entirely.

How do I make him fall in love with me?

The results this time were… even less useful. Barely anything applied to my situation - why would they? It wasn’t normal by any stretch. I already knew that much without the internet confirming it. 

I put my phone away, feeling worse than before I took it out, and pushed myself to my feet. It was time to go home.

 

* * *

 

 

Saturday took its sweet ass time coming around. It wasn’t that I was looking forward to the weekend. I wasn’t looking forward to anything beyond seeing the Corporal again on Wednesday. When Saturday was out the way, I could cross it off as another milestone, and count the last days until the magic one rolled around once more. I was hoping to learn even more about him, the information already obtained stored neatly in a box in my brain. If only I could have managed the same level of retention for my actual education, I’d be sailing alongside Mikasa.

As it was, I was sinking right where she left me, and I’d just thrown my paddle in a hasty moment of rebellion. Such is life.

I was more than aware, as I climbed into the back of the cab, that I should be walking to Armin’s. If I was a good friend, I’d have cancelled this and gone to be with him on his second little gathering. I thought about texting him, and decided not to. Better not stick my sugared head into a hornet’s nest, not that I expected him to sting. I didn’t want to rub my own lack of loyalty in his face. 

The text from Hange  indicated the man I was seeing had hired me for a birthday treat. The allotted time was two hours - a big treat, though the hotel was budget, situated at the bottom end of the scale for places Hange would accept. I wonder if, after having seen Mr. Smith’s grandiose expense, I would be spoiled for the lesser dwellings. I doubt it. So long as the money was good, I didn’t much care for the room; I could just close my eyes and think of anything else, anything at all, provided there were no wayward mattress springs poking into my ass. 

The cab dropped me off a little outside of town. As I anticipated, it was modest, a step up from a motel. I strode through the sliding doors, trying my best not to mimic a famous motion as they whooshed obediently open for me. I guess we never truly attain maturity. I certainly wouldn’t.

As soon as I stepped into the lobby, I left my personal feelings behind. They weren’t permitted to come with me. It was like a snake shedding skin, only I’d shrug it all back on when I left in two hours. 

I didn’t even glance at the receptionist. I walked straight through, checking the text on my phone for the vitals. He was on the second floor, room 58. All I had to do was follow the signs, down this corridor and that. The air carried a faint scent of cleaner and the distant, lingering traces of perfume. 

Room 58. 

I took a deep breath, and drummed my knuckles on the wooden door, just below the silver numbering. I fought the urge to put on a high-pitched tone and call out, “Room service!”. I wanted to get off to a good start, and Hange told me they were a little on the shy side. It was likely they wouldn’t want to do anything with me after that. Though, in a sense, I guess I was room service. Maybe I should suggest to Hange that they go into business with local hotels; you know,  add us to the menu. Dial 0+1 for reception, and in twenty minutes a handsome man is delivered to your room.

“W-Who is it?” The voice from the other side called out. 

I smiled to myself. 

He sounded nervous alright. “I think you’re expecting me. I have a gift for you, Birthday Boy.”

I heard movement. I imagined him moving about the room, checking everything over, checking himself over in whatever mirror was available, and then finally approaching the door. He fumbled with the handle, and then it opened.

“Hey, there.” I said, slapping my most charming smile on. “I’m-”

“I know. It’s good to see you, Eren. I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it?
> 
> If you have any comments - any constructive feedback at all - I am all ears. I would love some insight. Otherwise, thank you for reading and I am very excited to see how you guys react to this one!!


	31. Questions Left Unanswered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my editor for many great edits.
> 
> And thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. It was one I was very excited to receive feedback on, and you didn't let me down! You are all so amazing.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is supporting my work. You make it feel so worthwhile to continue this.

_...A Few Days Earlier..._

 

My head was in my hands, shielding me from the world. Or shielding the world from me, I wasn’t sure which was more accurate at this point.

Beneath my elbows, the paperwork I was meant to be checking off. I’d barely lifted my pen to the first page when I lost the will to continue. My mind was elsewhere, places it shouldn’t be on a Thursday morning, places it always seemed to go to on a Thursday morning.

The tea Petra carefully made for me was undoubtedly cold by now. Another neglected beverage, the death toll insurmountable and steadily rising - it wasn’t even lunch time. I ought to ask her to stop making them for me, and I would, if I thought it would stop her. I suspected she would carry on regardless, given the nature of the woman.

I let out a weary groan and rubbed at my eyes, as if I’d somehow erase the dark circles forming there. Another sleepless night. The solution was obvious, but I didn’t want to cave in. I _wasn’t_ going to cave in. I’d been caving in far too much recently, which resulted in the next three days being filled with a strange feeling of regret, after which the need to see that piece of shit kicked in instead. Still, I had to give it to him. He was doing the trick, one way or another, if not at all how I expected.

“Good morning, Levi.” Erwin greeted me warmly, and I realized I had failed to notice him coming into my office at all. I lowered my hands slowly, steeling my face into what I hoped looked like alertness. Erwin didn’t comment as he took the seat opposite me, so I didn’t mention it either. “You look well.”

Now I knew he was lying. “What do you need?” I ask, bluntly.

“Aside from those,” he gestured to the papers, “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Same shit, different day.” I quipped.

His smile was thin and as tired as I was.  He was far too used to my moods. “You never change, do you? Alright. Let’s talk about strategies for the upcoming seasonal.”

Erwin’s deep, rich voice filled my office with statistics, data, and figures for the Christmas campaign. I exchanged information with him where relevant, offering ideas and solutions to potential problems we may face going forward. It was boring, tedious, and never-ending.

There was more to it than that, I noticed. He would tell me soon enough, I just had to wait for it to come out.

I forced the frown from my face, feigning indifference as we talked, all the while my head scrutinised the man opposite me.

_What are you avoiding saying, Erwin?_

“Our designers are already working on graphics for the site,” Erwin continued, all business and no pleasure. “They will test run the site in a few weeks.”

I picked up my discarded pen, jotting down a few key points on a blank page. “Nothing too gaudy this time, I hope.”

Erwin’s smile was thinner than string. “I’ll have their designs approved before going ahead.”

I nodded, satisfied that my complaints from the previous year were not only heard, but being acted upon. Last year’s campaign still grated my nerves, the image of that grotesque human (I use the term incredibly loosely) smiling out from our website forever haunting me. Our mascot and brand were off the wall for a dating company enough as it was, our seasonal campaigns did not have to be comprised of the same shit. Subscriptions were strong, though I suspect the heavy discount had much to do with that.

“Is there anything left to discuss?” I asked, drawing a close to our meeting. It was also an opening. A chance for him to tell me whatever the fuck it was he was neglecting to tell me.

“I think we covered it.” He surmised, his eyes cast downwards, at his hands. His thumbs twiddled. I waited, with relative - albeit dwindling - patience, for him to tell me what was really on his mind. “Keep up the good work.”

My eyebrow twitched, the carefully constructed seal cracking the smallest bit.

He got to his feet, our meeting finished, and his overbearing presence exited my office quietly. My door clicked into place, and I was left alone in silence.

Whatever plagued Erwin, I was not yet privy to. I couldn’t recall the last time he resisted confiding in me, his reluctance leaving me unsettled. What was so grave he couldn’t disclose it? Would I be forced to wait until the inevitable invite to dinner, or worse, lunch, for him to reveal it? My performance at work was impeccable. It was something personal.

My stomach lurched. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all.

There was little I could do. I could wait, and wait some more.

Pushing my unease to one side, I attempted to concentrate on my work. There was always paperwork to be done, documents to sign off and statistics to review. As my eyes looked over the first few sheets, the words became jumbled and blurred, no matter how many times I rubbed at my eyes. My sigh was heavy, my frustrations mounting.

I’d be patient and wait for Erwin, wait for him to find the right time to tell me what it was. I trusted his judgement implicitly, I knew he would make the right decision. He was intelligent, several steps ahead of where I was at any given moment, and if he wasn’t able to tell me now, there was good reason for that.

I told myself all this in what was meant to be an act of self-comfort. It had the opposite effect.

My pen tapped noisily, idly, on the desk.

The phone rang.

_“Keep up the good work.”_

The phone kept ringing.

What was Erwin not telling me?

My first thought was my meetings with Scout. Maybe he’d found out the nature of therapy I was pursuing, and felt betrayed. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d feel that way, too. I _think_ I would.

I tried to imagine it. I tried to imagine Erwin with _him_ , and regretted it. There’s no way that would happen.

I was wasting my time with these thoughts.

I brushed it off as best I could, devoting myself to what I did best.

Work.

 

* * *

 

 

“Levi!”

I shouldn’t have answered the phone. My first inclination, upon answering, was to promptly hang up. The day at work had been tiresome, they were rarely anything else. The last thing I needed was to be stuck on the phone. My thumb hovered over the red icon, temptation welling up inside me. It wasn’t too late. I hadn’t spoken.

I knew that they would only call me back if I went ahead and hung up, their voice several unnecessary octaves higher with indignation. That would unnecessarily burst my eardrums, a fate worse than whatever nonsense they were about to deliver.

“What is it, Hange?” I sighed into the receiver, not enough to crackle the line, but enough to alleviate my own tension. Minimally. Somewhat.

“How are yooouuuu?” Hange elongated the word painfully, making what should be a short sound drag on for miles. I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to contain myself.

I was sitting alone in my living room, a half glass of brandy untouched on the coffee table in front of me. The intention was to unwind, to settle back down after a stressful day at the office. There was no chance of that happening so long as my left ear was occupied.

“I’m sure you haven’t called me to ask that.” I said.

“As much as I would like to tell you you’re wrong… Levi, I’m concerned for you! Specifically, I’m concerned that you stopped seeing my favorite. What was wrong with him?”

Shit. This was unexpected.

“...Nothing was wrong.” I reached for the untouched glass of brandy. I had a prominent feeling I was going to need the sustenance to make it through this call. “Do we have to talk about this tonight?”

“Of course we do! I’ve been putting off calling you for obvious reasons, but I really need to know if he did something to upset you.”

It was frightening how Hange could switch from their usual playful nature to serious business in less than a breath. I wondered how they must feel inside, a constant hurricane of emotion. Every storm had a peaceful center. “He did nothing wrong. If you plan on punishing him for the cancellation, don’t.”

“I’m not that cruel! Not when I know the peculiarities of the customer.” Hange was teasing. I wasn’t in the mood to be teased. I pulled the phone away, seconds from ending the call. I stopped just in time. “He’s a good kid. I think he was fond of you.”

Maybe I should have hung up.  I wish I’d listened to my instinct in not answering it in the first place.

I sipped my brandy, let the heat of the fluid burn whatever nonsense I might have been tempted to speak out of my throat.

“You sure talk some shit.”

“I’m not worried, I clean my mouth regularly. If you change your mind and want me to hook you up with someone else, don’t hesitate to call me. And, take the friend discount this time, will you?”

“I’ll pass. Goodnight, Hange.”

I did what I should have done minutes ago, and hung up, sighing with relief only when my phone remained silent over the following five minutes. I finished my brandy, gulping the last down and letting the liquid fire warm my veins. I cradled the empty glass on my lap, lost in a myriad of thoughts I didn’t want to have.

Pushing them away only drew them closer to the surface, until there was nowhere left for me to run, until I was forced to sit and face them head on.

Hange’s interest in their workforce was oddly endearing.

They carried genuine interest, far more than I expected the average pimp to have.

I would not have gone to them if I felt that were not the case; diseased and bedraggled whores littered the city streets, howling like cats in heat in darkened alleyways, as common and filthy as litter. Not all were there by choice. Some were victims of circumstance or whatever. They deserved better. And that was where Hange came in.

Their goal was simple; to offer better working conditions, safer and more structured, and better for the customer, too. There was no stamping out prostitution, and in Hange’s view, the best we could do was to improve the current system.

I poured a second glass of brandy and sat back down, nursing this one more carefully, my thoughts stewing in my head, dampened not a bit by the alcohol. If only.

The glass pressed to my lip, I breathed in the aroma of the drink, my eyes staring off into nothingness. I was trying to make sense of something I didn’t understand.

_Fondness._

What did it even mean, to be _fond_ of someone?

I was fond of Erwin. A lifelong friend, companion. He was also my superior. Spending time with him was enjoyable, his conversation subtle and far from overbearing. He was a friend, a damned good one. I was _fond_ of him.

Somehow, I don’t think that is quite what Hange meant.

_He’s fond of you._

The brat wasn’t good at conversation. He stumbled and stuttered for the most part, slowly gaining confidence as time wore on. He was easily flustered, too energetic, overly emotional. A little like Hange, only his was more focused in a single direction at a time.

What else was the little shit to me, beyond being a little shit? I certainly wasn’t _fond_ of him. Why, then, was he at all fond of me?

The drink I was supposedly nursing carefully was gone, I realized a little too late. The glass was empty, and I wasn’t inclined to down a third. It wouldn’t make a difference. Washing the empty glass in the kitchen, I returned to the living room and switched the light off.

I was still pondering the complicated simpleness of humans as I climbed into my bed, weary from the day. Erwin and Hange both left impressions on me, the former a mystery that would eventually work itself out. Hange’s words, however. They played in my mind as I settled beneath the blanket, my eyes open and mind awake as my body feigned sleep.

What did he have to be fond of in me?

I only wish I knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I am so sorry to make you all wait another week to find out who it is that Eren's meeting. It was a cruel move, and one I grinned the whole way through. Please don't berate me too much!!
> 
> Any comments, any at all, greatly received. If you have any constructive feedback, keyboard smashes, incoherent screaming - it's all very welcome in my inbox. Go wild. Make an author happy.


	32. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys... without further delay... here it is...
> 
> Congratulations to everyone who guessed correctly. It was absolutely fascinating to see everyone's guesses for this!
> 
> Special thanks to my editors for looking this over!

It is scientific fact, according to my science teacher anyway, that all living creatures are instilled with the natural “fight or flight” mechanism. That, when presented with a potentially dangerous situation, our ancestral brains kick in and make a snap decision for us; to stay and fight, or flee to safer ground. An incredible sensation that spurs you into action, one way or another.

For me, my own personal response was to get the ever-living fuck out of there. If I ran quickly enough, I could deny this  ever happened, and believe me, that is something I wanted very much indeed. 

“Wrong room!” I declared, a sound that was only a mockery of laughter sputtering from my mouth. I swivelled on my heel, the fake smile I’d been wearing wiping clean off my face as I made for the exit. 

“Don’t run away from me!”

Can’t run from what wasn’t happening. “Mistaken identity!” I called over my shoulder. The stairs were in sight. I could take them two, maybe three at a time. I felt like three was possible. Yeah, three was a good number. 

“Eren!” 

The doorway to the stairs – to freedom –  was within reach, but my body wouldn’t move. I couldn’t even lift a finger to touch the metal panel, let alone find the strength to push it. I stood there, looking through my blurry reflection to the stairwell beyond. 

I couldn’t run from him. I couldn’t run from _ this _ .

It was time. Time to face it all.

Slowly, I turned around.

Standing there, a few meters down the hall from me, was my lifelong friend and companion, Armin Arlert. I could see his shoulders shake with the force of his breaths, the labor of emotion weighing down his face. He looked aged in that moment, aged too far beyond his youthful years. I was responsible for every single imagined wrinkle on that boy’s face, I was responsible for the downward curve of his normally smiling lips, and I was responsible for the ocean of hurt in his deep blue eyes. I silently prayed Jean would jump out behind me, and swiftly end this misery for me.

So this is how it felt when all my lies finally caught up.

“...Hi.” I gave a weak wave, my hand flopping as if every bone inside me had turned to ash. 

“I think we should talk.” Armin suggested.

_ Should we? Should we really? Who says? _

“I don’t think it’s your birthday yet…”  I heard the sigh. It blew over me like a hurricane, throwing everything inside me into utter chaos. The only thing that would be left after this encounter… was destruction.

“Eren.”

I winced, my name never sounding so harsh and ugly in someone’s mouth as it did then. It blew over me like a bitter wind in the dead of winter, all warmth chased out. I never wanted to hear that again. His voice was like sunshine to me, not a single cloud could cover it. Until now. 

My feet dragged on the floor, scuffing the carpet with a muffled reluctance as I trudged back down the hall and into the room. My heart beat echoed off the walls, or maybe I imagined it completely. It was deafening, the sound hurting my ears.

This was it. I was going in that room, and when I re-emerged, I would be without my best friend. I would be without the comfort of having him there to depend on, to look out for me whenever I fucked up, to help me cram for my exams.

Armin waited by the door, guarding any further attempts at rebellion I may have. Only when I was securely cornered did he close the door. 

The only way out now would be a dramatic dive out the window. In another time, I probably would have been concerned about my growing habit of referring to windows as potential escape routes. Jean always liked to call me a suicidal bastard, for one reason or another, but I never put much thought to it. I reluctantly admitted now, he had a valid point.

Most likely, the glass would be that reinforced shit that not even a nuclear bomb could dent. 

I stopped looking longingly out the window. In doing so, I was forced to examine the room – to look at anything in detail, besides Armin.

The decor was dated, stuck somewhere ten years before I was even a glimmer in my mother’s eye. The carpet was brown, too brown, if that was a thing. It was now, I decided. The carpet – it was too brown. There wasn’t a wardrobe to speak of. A single bed, and a single bedside cabinet. Beyond the door to my left presumably was a bathroom. The curtains were cream, with bold and blocky patterns. I hated it. I hated everything about this room. Especially myself. There was nothing I could hate more than myself right now.

I stood there awkwardly, caught between the window and Armin. With a shrug of my shoulders, I tried another feeble attempt at humor. Since when was it so hard to joke with my best friend? 

“Not much of a party, eh? I must be the first to arrive.”

Armin’s expression was tired. It was exhausted. What did he see when he looked at me, I wondered. The thought made my stomach churn, tossing around as if I’d swallowed the ocean. Inside my chest was a stormy sky, blowing a heavy wind over troubled waters. 

“Come on, Eren. You know there wasn’t going to be one. Besides, that’s not what you came here for, is it?”

I don’t know if he meant those words to hurt. I flinched from the pain,  my mind reeling as I came to terms with what was happening. It wasn’t too long ago I was in a similar situation to this, the feeling of seeing Mikasa sitting at the kitchen table coming back with startling clarity.  There was nowhere for me to run then, nowhere for me to run now. 

My lies had finally caught up with me, and they had me locked down.

“...I was afraid you’d say that,” I mumbled to the hideous carpet.

“And I was afraid you’d turn up. I really was hoping to be proven wrong.” Armin took a few steps forward, his head down, unable to look at me properly. That was fine by me - I could barely look at him, and I rather he didn’t see me at all. 

“It’s not too late, Armin. I can leave. We can pretend this never happened.” 

“Don’t you think it’s time to stop running from this? Besides, I’ve paid for your time, let’s use it.”

My stomach dropped. The color drained out of my face. “Ar-Armin?”

“ _ To talk _ .”

If anything was going to be a relief tonight, it was that. I wasn’t ready to have sex with my best friend. This evening was traumatic enough without that added on. 

“I’ll refund you the fee.” I said, not sure what else to offer him. “I know it’s not cheap.”

“I had the money, but it’s not important anyway. I don’t care about that side of things. I want to know _ why _ , Eren. Why are you here, why do you do it?” Armin kept himself under tight wraps. His voice was impossibly even, controlled, and gave little away of how he was actually feeling. It was a little frightening to find myself on the other side of him.

“I don’t know if you’d believe me.”

“Give me the chance to understand. I’m your friend. If I don’t hear you out then how can I still call myself that?”

I was surprised to hear him say that. There was time to change his mind, however. By the end of our talk, I’m sure he’d take it back. 

Seeing my hesitation, Armin sidestepped, giving me a clear path to the door. “If you want to leave, then I won’t stop you. I’m giving you a chance to come clean here, Eren. I want to listen to you, to understand you. Not judge.”

My mouth went slack, eyes flicking to open route to freedom. Just like that, I could be out of here. But the thought of what waited for me if I took that path didn’t bear thinking about. I would lose Armin for good. If there was a chance to salvage our friendship, it was now. I had to wash my hands clean of the lies I’d told, no matter how deeply they stained.

“I did it because… because I… I… wanted the money.”

“You wanted it, or needed it?” He pressed.

“I wanted it.”

“You’ve been doing this since before your dad passed, haven’t you? It wasn’t to help pay the mortgage?”

I shook my head, no. “I don’t really remember how long I’ve been doing it for.”

“Purely for financial benefit?”

“I wanted to travel with my dad. It wasn’t for nicer clothes or anything dumb like that; I wanted to see the world with him, Armin. My grades are never going to be good enough, and I don’t care either. Where I was going, I wouldn’t need them.”

I was on the verge of tears as I confessed. My legs felt weak, the burden of my secret lifted at last, and I collapsed onto the bed. The springs creaked, and I sunk down, further than I thought possible. It was as though someone had cut my strings.

“Eren…” Armin sighed, and I could hear him shuffle about the room. I was holding my head in my hands, trying to gather the broken pieces of me back together. 

“I know it’s fucked up. I know  _ I  _ fucked up. It was a dumb thing to do but… but I did it. And I can’t take that back. My only regret is lying to you, Armin.” And that was the gospel truth.

“I can’t say it doesn’t hurt me, knowing you lied for so long. I can’t stand here and say that I don’t understand why you tried to hide it, either,” Armin mediated. He was trying to understand, and for that I was grateful. Whether or not he could reconcile his feelings with me was another matter.

“Armin… How…? How did you know to call me here?”

He fell quiet. I looked up, in time to see the awkward way his lips tried to form the words. “I have confession of my own. I followed Hange.”

“You followed them?”

He nodded. “I trailed them around. I’m sorry, Eren. It was wrong of me to do that, to betray your trust. But I was worried about you - and so was Mikasa. In fact, she was the reason I acted on my suspicions.”

“Mikasa?” 

I had too many things I now needed to ask Armin. I didn’t know which thread to pull on first.

“She knew something was up with you.”

“Armin… Wait, Mikasa, too? Does she know? Have you told her? Is she here?” 

Was she hiding in the bathroom, restraining herself until we finished talking and all my dirty secrets were aired?  I couldn’t handle her knowing, too. Not yet. I wasn’t even ready for Armin to know.

“Calm down, one question at a time. No, she isn’t here - and she doesn’t know. I wanted to confirm it for myself, first. Don’t be upset with her, though. Please. It was my idea to track Hange. Mikasa doesn’t know anything about that.”

I had no right to be angry at anyone. This was all my fault. In fact, they should be angry at me, even if Mikasa’s wrath was one I didn’t wish to invoke.

“Thank god.” My shoulders slumped, my whole body collapsing as if my skeleton had been pulled clean out of me. This was one hell of an emotional rollercoaster, and I was more than ready to get the fuck off of it. “She can’t find out.”

“I’m not going to tell her.” Armin reassured me, and I knew I could trust him.

“You said that you… followed Hange?”

“M-Mhm. To a cafe or two. They… they left their organizer behind, and I seized the chance. It was dishonest, and wrong, but I took one of the business cards.”

“I see. That’s how you found me.” I could fill in the rest easily enough. It wouldn’t have taken much for Armin to steer Hange onto me. However it happened, nothing was going to change. I couldn’t afford to dwell on the impossible details. 

“Are you… up for talking a little more? There’s some other things I’d like to ask.” 

“If you’re ready for the answers. I won’t lie to you anymore, Armin. I’m done with that.” 

I watched with tired eyes as Armin pulled the chair from the desk, and set it down in front of me. I felt like I was about to be interrogated – maybe I was. He cleared his throat, staring at the floor for a moment until he’d gathered his thoughts.

“How did you get into, uh, that line of work?” He asked, his cheeks flushing.

“Oh.” I stared down at my hands, wondering how much I should tell him. I’d lied to Hange on my application, and that information would only make Armin worry more. Though, he knew me. I’m sure he could work it out even without my telling him. “...I saw an advert. I didn’t think much of it; I told Hange a thing or two about myself, and got the job.”

“And this was… some time ago now?”

“Yeah. I don’t really remember how long.”

“Eren… I’d be lying if I said I understood your reasoning, but that’s none of my business, is it? What you do is up to you. Just… are you safe?”

“Very. As can be; always public places,” with the odd exception, “and I always use…”

“That’s good. That’s good.” He cut in where I trailed off, and we sat there in an awkward silence together. “Do you not think you could move back in with Mikasa?”

“No. I mean, I could, yes. I don’t want to do that. I like my house, Armin. I grew up there, there’s too many memories; of my mom, dad, Mikasa. You. It’s all tied up in those walls. If I lost them, I’d have nothing.” My voice quivered as I thought of it, of sorting through my parent’s things, throwing out and boxing up what little I could take. “Besides, I don’t think she’d want her little brother encroaching on her life.”

“She misses you terribly.” Armin said, sounding far away. He was thinking of things beyond my comprehension, I could tell. 

“She has her life there, I have mine here. It might not be much, but it’s all mine. I’ve made it this far – I can carry on like this.”

He seemed satisfied with that. Another silence.

I’d thought of this conversation many times in my head. Many scenarios to match, too. None were like this. My head was reeling, unable to fathom the 180° my evening had taken. Tomorrow, I would wake up convinced this was nothing but a horrible dream. 

With everything out, all that I had left was to apologize to him. For all my lies, for letting him down, I had to apologize.

“I’m sorry. I really am, and I’ll never be able to say it enough. I wanted to tell you, I wanted that more than anything. It wasn’t that easy though. I didn’t want to… to lose you as my friend.”

His chair creaked as he leaned forward. My eyes were closed, shielded behind my hands that covered my face as I struggled to hold myself together. Armin was the only person I had left, and I felt I was on the brink of losing him, too. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Armin said, his hand lightly squeezing my knee, “I’m here for you. No matter what stupid crap you pull.”

“Armin…” I felt the warmth in my eyes. My vision blurred as I looked at him, a mass of blue and blond mixing together as the tears began to drizzle down my face. “I’m… I’m so sorry!”

In one swift motion, he moved from the chair and next to me on the bed. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me to him. My face found his shoulder, and there I soaked the fabric of his white t-shirt, crying freely and without shame. All the tension in me was pouring from my eyes, and he was there, holding me steadily as I released it all.

“Hey, come on. I’m here for you, Eren. I promise you. I’m your friend, for so long as you want me.” He whispered to me, his other hand brushing over my hair. 

I shook my head, clenching my eyes shut. “I’ve been a shit friend, Armin.” 

“You’re not going to lose me, Eren.”

I barely heard him, lost in the mire of my own turmoil. My fear of losing him, my only friend left in this town, was consuming me. We moved in our ways through life, our paths diverging at times and carrying us in different directions. Despite that, our paths always merged at some point, bringing us back together. Armin had Jean, but still ate lunch with me. We ended up in different classes, but still saw each other outside of school. He would go off to further education, and I…

I didn’t know anymore. It didn’t seem to matter where I ended up, so long as I still had Armin and Mikasa.

My hands shook as I clutched at his shirt.

“Eren.” He spoke softly. “Eren, listen to me. You’re not going to lose me. Or Mikasa. We’re going to get through this,  _ together. _ ”

His hold on me was strong and unfaltering, and I felt it inside me, as if he was mending me, holding together the parts of me that had come undone.

I hated crying. I hated to cry in front of people. Yet here I was, letting it out freely in front of Armin. He’d seen many sides to me, and my tears were nothing new. He waited patiently for the tide of my emotions to shift and subside, all the while keeping his arm around me, anchoring me down.

“This isn’t what I expected,” he said, once I was a little calmer. “I guess I didn’t really know how this conversation would turn out. Eren, you’re an idiot. You’re intelligent, but you choose to be so dumb sometimes.”

“H-Hey…” I managed to say between sobs, unsure if I should be offended or complimented or both. It was hard to make sense of anything while I still felt my whole world was crumbling around me.

Armin was smiling, though. I saw it through the blurry haze of my tears, his sweet and forever youthful face, the same today as it was when we met as toddlers. Back when our biggest fear was the monster under the bed or the lady next door with the big teeth, whom my mom told me ate too much chocolate. I barely ate chocolate after meeting her. She pinched my cheek, always too hard, whenever she saw me. Armin’s, too. I missed the simple nature of childhood.

“I don’t agree with your choice,” Armin stated, drawing me from my thoughts, “I guess it’s just like you though, to take the most adventurous route through life. Never a dull moment with you, is there?” He was trying to make light of the situation, I could tell. I didn’t have the strength in me to laugh like he wanted me to. 

My eyes were drying up at last, which was a relief. They were sore, and I felt the onset of a headache creeping over me, a nuisance I would worry over later. 

This was completely not the Saturday I thought I’d be having.

“Don’t tell Mikasa, please. I don’t know how she would handle it.”

“Not too well, I think.” Armin gave my hands another squeeze. “I’ll have to tell her something. She’s the reason I got involved at all, it wouldn’t do to leave her questions unanswered or she’ll investigate it herself.”

“You’re right. I’ll try and come up with something.”

“Leave that to me. Your excuses are a little… crap.”

I nodded in agreement, unable to argue with that. “Thanks, Armin. I… I don’t mean to drag you into this mess, too.”

“You’re not dragging me into anything. I already know there is no point in trying to make you stop what you’re doing. You’re far too stubborn for that. There is… there is one more thing I’d like to ask, if I may.”

Every muscle in my body clenched. “Wh-what?”

His eyes met mine. “If you’re not involved with Hange, then who are you involved with?”

“I – Hange!” I yelled, breaking my hands free from Armin’s with sudden realization. My phone was vibrating. “I forgot to message them!”

Ignoring Armin’s bewildered expression, I hurried to retrieve my phone from my pocket. I completely forgot protocol. No sooner than I tapped to answer the call did my voice bellow down the phone, “Hange! I’m so sorry! I completely forgot to message you.”

_ “You’re alright, then?” _

“Technically speaking, yes.” I glanced at Armin, remembering Hange was the reason I was in the mess right now - well, partly. “Hange, I need to speak to you about today’s client. There’s been a slight complication.”

_ “Did he try something funny? If he’s hurt you or anything, I’ll pull his teeth out. We can display them!” _

“He’s my best friend.” I stated.

_ “...Really? Wow, that must have been awkward!”   _ They laughed, clearly failing to realize the enormity of the situation. “ _...Oh. Wait. Not-” _

“I’ll see you tomorrow, at the usual place, Hange. I need to finish sorting this out.” 

I said my goodbye and hung up, returning my attention to Armin. “Sorry about that. If I don’t message within ten minutes of the appointment ending, Hange calls to make sure I’m alright.”

“That’s good to know. That’s… really good to know.”

“...Armin, where do we go from here? This whole evening has been a complete mess, I don’t know my ass from elbow, but I need to know when we walk out of here you won’t… you won’t stop being my friend.”

My question caught him off guard, his eyes widening momentarily. He was quiet for what felt the longest time, and in every second that passed, a thousand thoughts bound through my mind, none of them favorable. 

I had to know. I had to know for certain that, come Monday morning, he’d be waiting outside my house to take me to school, like nothing happened. I needed to know he would be there at lunch, with his boyfriend, asking about my day and if I was in trouble much with Shadis for not doing my homework again. 

I had to know that, if Mikasa came back down to visit, he would sit on the swings with me and eat pizza and all of that. Just like nothing ever happened. 

“Eren, I already told you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rehauled this entire chapter a few hours before updating, so I hope it reads alright.


	33. The Devil Makes Work For Idle Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading this far.
> 
> I really hope you're enjoying it. I totally did not forget to give the chapter a title and/or write a note.
> 
> Thank you to my editor for ensuring my shit doesn't go unnoticed.

My phone was ringing.

It was making a sound that it most definitely should not be making. No one was meant to call me tonight. Of the three people who could be guilty of such a crime, I deduced that one knew me too well, and the other lacked the courage to even try. That left the third culprit unaccounted for, and sure enough, it was their cursed name flashing on my screen.

“Hange,” I breathed, although “hissed” was far more accurate. “You’d better be stuck down a well or something equally stupid, because if you’re not already, you will be by the end of this call.”

Did it deter them? Like hell it did.

“Levi!”

“Is this going to take long?” Checking my watch, I calculated I didn't have the time for one of Hange's calls. He'd be here soon and I needed the time alone to mentally prepare myself for whatever shit he might try and pull on me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little intrigued by his antics, but only slightly. He was growing on me. Like a tumor. A benign one.

“You're always so grumpy,” Hange said, and I could hear the pout in the roundness of their words. “You seriously need to get laid.”

“I don't care how many times you offer. I have enough issues as it is without the mental scarring from you.”

I heard their chuckle as it crackled the line. “I wasn't referring to myself, silly. I meant the cutie you requested from me. You stopped seeing him though...”

“Oh. You're calling about that.” I did my best to sound disinterested, which I guess wasn't all that hard. Still, the lying plagued me. I was running my fingers across the jacket of his uniform, smoothing out the creases in preparation for his arrival.

It made the topic of Hange's call all the more timely, and I had to wonder if a celestial hand was somehow involved. Luckily, I didn't believe in that shit.

“You guys seemed to be getting along! Did you scare him off? Did he upset you? Did you sort your little problem out? What happened?”

I gritted my teeth at the barrage. “If you let me answer one damn question before firing off three more, I would tell you.” The line fell quiet. I took a breath. “Nothing happened. _Nothing_. I changed my mind about it, and that's all there is to know.”

“I don't believe you.”

Hange's reply was quick, not a single beat missed. Hearing the seriousness of their voice was startling, and a little unnerving. I straightened up at that, as if they were somehow in the room, interrogating me. “It doesn't matter if you believe it or not. That's the truth.” I said flatly.

I could picture their eyes narrowing behind their lenses. “I know you, Levi.”

That wasn’t just a statement. It was a threat veiled as something else, and thinly at that. I knew what Hange was telling me, loud and clear. My false words weren’t strong enough to lead them off the scent. “Whatever happened is between me and him.”

“So you admit that something did happen?” They pressed.

Knuckles rapping on the door distracted me from answering in a timely manner, leaving hesitation in the air that would only confirm their suspicions. I didn’t have time for this. My mind was already moving on, to the person undoubtedly waiting on the other side of the door.

“Hange, I have to go. We can sort this out later.”

I opened the door as quietly as possible, pressing my finger to my lips to indicate his immediate need for silence. He nodded, closing his already open mouth and swallowing the greeting that was about to burst out of him. He ducked into my apartment, vanishing straight into the spare room like a well-trained puppy. Good boy.

“Levi-!” Hange called into my ear, but I already wasn’t listening.

I hung up, tossing my phone onto the table and wincing as it clattered. I ought to be more careful with that thing. It would be a nuisance if it broke.

“Rough day at the office, huh?”

Apparently finished changing, my scheduled company for the evening came out, sliding the tight brown jacket on his arm and straightening it out. I watched him, how his limbs moved, his lip twitching as he struggled initially to get his arm to go through, followed by the self-satisfaction as it slid home and his hand appeared the other end.

He was easy to read like this, yet somehow I never truly felt I understood what he was thinking. I guess he was unpredictable in his predictability, and to mistake him for simple would be just that.

A mistake.

“Something a little closer to home. It was Hange.”

His expression shifted as a new emotion settled in, the plight of getting dressed forgotten in favor of this new drama. “Do they know?”

_Do they know._

He was concerned about that, too, then. Only natural, considering his livelihood was on the line. It was stupid to think he’d be unfazed at the prospect of being caught.

“They’re asking if you upset me.”

“Oh. I didn’t, did I?”

That, you have to ask.

His brows knotted together, a storm brewing in the waters below. I waved it off. “No, not yet. You’ve only just gotten here.”

His shoulders dropped, the relief gushing out of him. “What did you tell them, if you don’t mind my asking? We need our stories to corroborate…”

“You make it sound like we’re committing a crime.” I turned from him, heading into the kitchen. I wanted tea. I busied myself with that task, noting the way he sauntered over and took up a seat. I could feel his eyes following me around the kitchen like a shadow.

“We kind of are. Well, _I_ am.” He corrected himself, then added, “I guess you sort of are, too. Escorting isn’t exactly on the right side of the law.”

A fresh cup in hand, I placed it down on the counter and seated myself opposite him, losing myself to thought. He spoke a truth I had yet to consider, one I should have been all too aware of. Then again...

“I never always stayed on what you would consider the _right_ side of the law. Why change the habit of a lifetime.”

“...Corporal, Sir…?”

Both titles in the same sentence? Damn, this was going to be serious.

“Are you telling me you really do work for the mafia?”

The level of excitement he expressed was beyond worrying. No one should be that boisterous over the mafia.

I sipped leisurely at my tea, which, much like this guy’s theories, had time to brew to perfection.

“You really do, don’t you?”

I shook my head. “No. I never have, either. I _have_ been involved with gangs - a long time ago.” I don’t know why I told him that. It settled him, at least, the childish enthusiasm dying as his face darkened. He looked almost my age for a second, his eyes piercing me with a seriousness that didn’t suit him.

“Tell me more.”

His request was simply spoken, but complicated to fulfill. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know (or anyone else). I was the one who opened the can myself, I couldn’t close it without satisfying a degree of his curiosity. What a mess I’d landed myself in.

“I was young and stupid and needed a means to survive. I didn’t do it out of rebellion, if that’s what you think.”

“I never… I would never…” He stuttered, colour flushing his cheeks back to life. He looked young again. That was a relief. “You don’t strike me as the type to act on a whim.” He said.

“You’d be right in that. I did what I had to to get a meal and keep a roof over my head. I’m not proud of it.” I was ashamed of my beginnings, truth be told. Not even Erwin knew the full extent to which I had clambered out of the gutter, and he would never know.

“And now?” He asked.

“Now? Now I don’t have to worry.”

“Ah… that must be nice.” He spoke wistfully, his eyes glazing like a thin layer of ice on a river. “I want to live like that, one day. Thanks, Sir.”

“For what?”

“For helping me realize anything is possible. If you came out okay, I know I can, too.”

I wasn’t used to being a source of inspiration for others. I didn’t know what emotion was winning me over; the irritation, or the vague sense of accomplishment. They were equal competitors, and I had little interest in indulging either of them.

“Your success is up to you.” I said shortly, taking another sip of my tea. It was doing little to soothe me. “Don’t limit yourself. If you have the will and determination to succeed, you will. No one is gonna hold your hand and guide you through this mess.”

“Not even you, Sir?”

Not even me.

That is the reply I was meant to give.

My mouth was dry, and no words made an effort to come out. Out the corner of my eyes, I could see what he was referring to. His open palm was on the counter, inviting me to cover it with my own.

When I was with him, it was easy to forget. Forget that this is what he did for a living, that smooth-talking old men such as myself was why he was able to dress in the goddamn clothes he came in wearing. Tight jeans and t-shirt, a denim and black combo with a beige button up slung over the top, he wore fashion without trying – lately, anyway. His dress code had improved somewhat since our first meeting, as if he was somehow more aware of his own attractiveness in a way he wasn’t before.

He carried himself differently, too, and only now did I notice how bold he was becoming. Like he was when we first met. The difference was the history between us.

How many men had he used a line like that on? He played his role well. If he saved the money, he’d be out of this line of work in no time, living in his own flashy apartment, instead of that family house with his sister or whatever. It was smooth and appealing, and I noticed when my fingers twitched as they held the teacup, as if they were getting ready to take flight from the nest and find a home elsewhere.

Would his palm feel as I remembered it? Would it be coarser or softer today? If I lifted it to my face, would I be able to find the faint traces of soap lingering on his nails?

“You should know by now, that won’t work with me.” I held firm onto my cup, and my senses. “I’m the broken one, remember?”

His hand closed up like a wilting flower, the fingers gradually curling inwards. “I wish you’d stop talking that way whenever you mention yourself. You’re not broken - I told you this.”

I’d forgotten that that struck a nerve with him. A raw one.

“You’re not broken, Corporal. I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to help you realize that… you’re fine the way you are.”

I clicked my tongue, looking away from him, over his quivering shoulder and to the room beyond. The safe space I’d carefully constructed. Or perhaps, it was the exact opposite. “You don’t even know why I’m like this,” I muttered absently. Of course he was going to ask me to tell him. And that’s exactly what he did, his bright eyes shimmering like sun rays on tropical waters. “It’s no one’s business.”

“I’m making it mine. Corporal… you can only keep me at the door so long. I’m eventually going to come in.”

“Is that a threat?” I met his gaze, saw the challenge waiting for me there. It left me cold, the shudder running a bony finger down my spine. This asshole.

“No, it’s not a threat. I want to know you, that’s all.” He replied with a pout, and a little too earnestly for my liking.

I should have held his hand and saved myself this bother.

“Some things you don’t get to know.” I told him.

“What’s your favorite food?”

The topic switched quickly enough that I felt the whiplash burning my skin. It took me a moment to reload my words, shelving the rebuttal I’d prepared for later use. Wait a moment.

“...Are you obsessed with food or something?” He looked puzzled. “We’ve had this conversation.” I waited for him, with an ounce of patience, to tick back to the conversation we’d had. I watched his eyes lit up as he found it, like a child having dug up treasure.

“You never answered, Sir.”

My lip twitched. “I told you I like sweet things.”

He digested that one slowly. And then, “Food food. A meal, for example.”

Tenacious.

I thought of the places Erwin took me to. The cuisine was varied, always delicious. Anywhere he took me would be a truthful answer. I didn’t want to say that. “I don’t really have one.”

“I like savory more than sweet.” He spoke as if I hadn’t, and I let him talk, “I eat a lot of pizza. The meaty toppings are my favorite. Do you like pizza, Sir?”

“I’ve never really eaten it.” I filed away the information he fed me. It was giving me an idea.

“Wh-really? Wow! We have to order some. Next time I’m here, I’ll order pizza. I’ll do it on the way, actually, that way we won’t waste any time.” The challenge in his eyes was gone. Now they were it with an enthusiasm that was unstoppable. I was lost to the changing tide.

“Why not just bring the pizza with you?” I offered.

“That’s a good point. I could be the delivery boy then. Make sure you have enough to cover the bill…”

His eyes changed again.

“Why wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t make you pay for the pizza yourself. I can give you the money tonight in advance if that makes it better.”

He laughed, and I wondered if there was a reference I’d missed. Nothing I said struck me as particularly amusing. Seeing him laugh, though, was an experience. His cheeks flushed, his eyes crinkled, his mouth opened, and out poured the most wonderfully boyish sound I’d ever heard. I felt as though I’d heard the sound of his soul.

I finished my tea in a single gulp and went about cleaning it out. Thoroughly. Twice. I resisted wiping it down a third time.

“You should have let me,” he was saying. “It’s been a long time since you let me clean. Mind you, this place is spotless,  not a speck of dirt anywhere. I sometimes wonder if you really live here. No one can live in a place that’s always this clean. Or, you clean it before I come over. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” I asked, sounding harsher than I meant to. He was still sitting, perched on the stool like a bird. If I spooked him enough, he’d probably take flight and vanish into the night. “If you stopped to take a breath sometimes, you’d get some answers to all your questions.” Was it international one hundred questions day, and I missed the memo? I was getting a little ticked with being grilled.

Maybe it was time to go vegetarian.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” He scratched at the back of his head, looking like a told-off child. I’d have reached over and pinched his ear if I could.

I did something even stranger, something I never thought to do. My hand was reaching out to him, still a little damp from cleaning my cup, and found itself nestled in his hair. It was surprisingly soft to the touch, and undeniably warm. I ran my fingers through it, messing it up even more.

Then my fingers found his, brushing lightly over them. I didn’t recoil from the touch. I let my fingers slide over his, the calmness inside me foreign and not unwelcome. My stomach did not twist, my mind did not race. I was strangely at peace, even as he took my hand in his and lead my fingers from his hair.

“...Sir…” He whispered, but I didn’t hear him. My eyes were locked on our hands as our fingers danced around each other, the gentle stroke of his skin on mine making me shiver. It was a comforting feeling, of connecting with someone.

They finally interlocked, our palms pressing together. I looked into his eyes then, and I knew I was lost forever. I didn’t want to be found, either. I would be happy wandering in his gaze for all eternity, always something new to discover.

 _Never let me go_ , I thought as I squeezed his hand.

He squeezed me back, as if answering my unspoken thoughts. _I won’t._

He was saying something, I don’t know what.  All I could register was the movement of his lips and the murmur of his voice. I didn’t care what he was saying. It didn’t matter, the meaning of his words. I stepped closer, inviting myself into his space, my head tilted down as I searched his face for traces of my sanity.

The only one holding me back from this… is me. It would be all too easy to lean down and place my lips to his. Part of me wanted to, I could feel it crying out with all its might for me to do it. I could see in his heavy-lidded eyes, that he wanted me to do it, too. He was hoping I would. Maybe he expected it, because that’s what he does. The natural progression of his job is to end up being intimate. It’s not that he wants it, not for me. I’d be one of thousands to grace his lips, whilst he would be the first to claim mine.

Was it so bad? Was a kiss that important?

In the world I was brought up in, it shouldn’t matter. So why, then, did I hesitate on the threshold? I wanted to throw it carelessly away, but something stopped me from going through with it.

The scenes from back then, they haunted me. Made my skin crawl. If only I could forget, I would be free of this. But I wasn’t. I was stuck with the demons of the past, that bony, disgusting face leering down at me. His long fingers, reaching, grabbing at me like claws.

_You bastard. I won’t let you hold me back anymore._

Giving his hand another squeeze, rooting myself in the here and now, I suppressed the surging tide of panic in my stomach, quelled the storm in my thundering heart, and leaned down, intending to his touch his lips with mine. 

Our mouths were close enough to touch.

I could feel his breath, warm and minty, mingle with my own.

I closed my eyes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Critics?
> 
> I'd love to hear from you guys!


	34. Call Blocked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you all, as always, for coming back to read another chapter. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I may not be updating next week as I have a super crap week at work. Please be patient, I'll be updating as soon as I can!
> 
> Special thanks as always to my editor for making sure my shit is as polished as can be.

I was in absolutely no mood for this. I was angry, furious, beside myself even. Whatever you want to call it. There were simply not words enough to describe how pissed I was when my alarm went off, buzzing in my pocket and sending me shooting back to Earth, at the exact moment I was about to touch the stars. I must have dented the button in the elevator with the force of which I jammed my fist into it, letting out a cry of frustrated misery as the doors closed and took me away.

Had my hands been steady enough, I’d call Hange and cancel. I would call or text and tell them no, not tonight. My place is with the Corporal, more now than ever. I should be with him.

That’s the thought that prevailed over all as I slunk into the back of the cab.

_I should be with him, and no one else, tonight._

A dream, if anything. The first part was all very fine, it was the second bit that was ultimately an issue. I didn’t fucking care anymore, it was probably all blown to smithereens anyway. After the courage it must have taken for him to go that far, for him to feel comfortable enough to take that step… I was certain that, without the interruption, his sweet kiss would’ve still  been lingering on my lips. Instead, I tasted only the bitterness of nothing.

God fucking damnit.

If I lived in a fantasy realm, I’d still be at the apartment. Or, I’d be dashing out the cab and running back, to appear breathlessly at his door. From there, we would hesitate briefly, exchanging looks, processing what was happening.

Finally, he would begin to tell me that he thought I had left, that I had someone else to see. And I would take his cheeks between my shaking palms, shaking my head from side to side and tell him to shut up. He would look offended, and I would kick the door shut behind me, and as he walked backwards a few paces and I forwards, I would finally get his kiss, ending all further protesting. We would kiss tenderly, then passionately, fiercely. He would be shy at first, then slowly melt into me.

I imagined it all vividly, every painful detail of the reality that the alternate universe version of myself was now probably living (you know, the one who has all the fun while I’m forced to make rational decisions). The other version of me would wake up in the morning with the Corporal snuggled against his chest, after an endless night of lovemaking, a lopsided smile on his face.

That bastard other me had it all, was lapping it up, while I was stuck in this damn cab, the miles between us building.

My chance to run back there was long gone. I made my choice, and there was nothing left for me to do but to stick with it. If my father had been around, I’m sure he’d tell me some kind of line like, “This is what being an adult requires, son”. My tongue swirled over my teeth, settling angrily on the roof of my mouth as if to block me spitting any words out.

Like _being an adult_ mattered.

I wanted to be a child again, to do the things _I_ wanted to do, to not worry about big concepts like _consequences_.

I looked at my phone, the pitch black screen reflecting my sour expression, a single thought pushing through my mind. With a swipe of my thumb the screen lit up, the same old photo of me and Armin smiling replacing my current bitterness. Within a few seconds I’d typed out what I wanted to say.

In the following minutes, I’d erased it and rewritten it more times than I could count. Frustrated, I changed it yet again. No matter how I worded it, it never captured my true feelings, always sounding weak and pathetic. Why was it so damn hard to get my point across to him!?

“Hey, you gonna get out now or you spending the night in the back of my cab?” The driver’s gruffness made me look up, and I realized we were outside the swanky hotel of Mr. Smith’s choosing, the same one as last time. Slipping my phone in my pocket, I apologized and hastily got out. It was time to shelve my feelings, slap on my work face, and suck dick.

Just as I was thinking this, I stepped into the hotel lobby, to find myself greeted warmly like an old friend.

“I was hoping you’d stop by.” Mr. Smith got to his feet, striding effortlessly to meet me as I walked through the door. I was grateful not to be left at the mercy of the receptionist this time around, but his immediate presence was a little unnerving. I wasn’t used to being met on my way in. “Come, right this way.”

Without batting a lid, he extended an arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the elevators.

“It’s good to see you again,” I said, wondering if my fake smile was enough to make up for the flatness of my words. I flashed it up at him as we waited for the elevator, summoning every ounce of enthusiasm I had to stop me turning tail and fleeing. “You missed me?”

The elevator pinged, and out stepped two stuffy looking men. One of them looked at me, as if with recognition, but the moment passed and so did they.

Mr. Smith gestured for me to enter first, and I stepped in, him close behind me. He only answered me when the doors closed and we sped towards the prestigious upper floors of the hotel. “I’ve been more than eager to spend time with you.”

The earnest lilt of his voice made my heart twinge. I looked up at him, observing the thick set of his jaw, the onset of wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. He had a kindness in them, wrapped in a hardened shell though it was. I got the impression he was letting his guard down with me, letting me intrude further than the others he may have in his life. There was something in the way his shoulders relaxed the farther to our floor we climbed, the way the downward curve of his mouth inched upwards, that made me convinced he was letting his metaphorical hair down.

When his gaze met with mine, I offered a genuine smile, and leaned into him. If I prided myself on being professional, I’d better get my ass in gear and act like there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be – even if there was somewhere very in particular that I would give my right arm to be.

“Let’s make the most of it.” I gave his arm a squeeze, and held on even as the elevator doors pinged open and we stepped out. Though it pained me to do so, I put my feelings for the Corporal back into a box, and buried it deep enough not to see it resurface for the next hour or so.

I belonged to Erwin Smith.

 

* * *

 

My hand clawed at the headboard, finding the edge and holding on as my knuckles turned white. I didn’t care that they were slamming into the wall. It was a slight nuisance, and one that I barely registered as Erwin fucked my ass for all it was worth.

My legs were hooked over his shoulders, toes curling as his cock found my sweet spot with a jarring irregularity. I quickly found that it was working wonders for me, a pleasure roulette, the jackpot almost within my reach. He could tell, too, that I was close. I glimpsed through heavy lids the smirk on his face, hearing the breathy chuckle escaping into the frenzied air between us.

I wanted to slap him, and for a brief second I sincerely considered going through with it. Some guys liked that, you know. I didn’t think Erwin was one of them, however. My hand stayed on the headboard, the other winding down my chest to my cock.

Fingers curling around my length, I lewdly began to pump myself, opening my eyes wider to hold his gaze. He grunted, repositioning his hips only to drive into me harder, faster.

“Fuck…!” I whispered, unable to help myself.

I felt tiny beneath him, his hulking frame engulfing me entirely, and there was something erotic hidden within the way it made me feel.

His forceful thrusts moved the bed easily, and me along with it. My head was rattling, my legs shaking. I couldn’t hold onto any single thought like this. Fragments of concepts that never fully developed, they disintegrated out of my mind without recognition. Which was why, as I tried to speak, my words were disjointed and equally as fragmented.

“Ah… good… want…” What was I even trying to say? That this was a good fuck, that he was good, that I wanted more? Did either of us even hold the capacity for more?

He chuckled once more, his hair tickling my face as he looked down at my hand, still feverishly stroking at my cock. “Are you going to come, Eren?”

“Nhn-!”

“Come.” He spoke in a commanding tone, the kind that made me shiver. The kind that made me want to close my eyes, but only partially, as somehow I knew he wanted me to see him as I climaxed. He kept a steady rhythm now, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.

“E-Erwin…!” With a shameless cry of his name, I came – _hard_. My cock went into spasm, shooting my load as far up as my chest, a stream of white laced with the sweat across my skin.

My vision blurred as the whirlwind of contractions racked my exhausted body, squeezing every sensation out of me until there was nothing left for me to give.

Erwin wasn’t quite done yet. He bent down, pressing his weight into me and crushing my mouth with his intense kiss. I felt the air in my lungs compress, and I could hardly breathe as he enclosed around me, bouncing his hips into mine as he worked up to his own orgasm. I could feel him inside me, deeper than deep, releasing with a satisfied groan that I swallowed completely.

I shuddered hard as he pulled out of me, my body feeling empty after spending so long being filled by him. He pulled the condom off, rolling onto his back with a heavy sigh. He propped himself up on the pillows, hands bent behind his head. I, on the other hand, barely managed to peel myself off the headboard. I couldn’t move. He’d ground me into the mattress, the shape of my body to forever remain engrained here.

“I know I said let’s not waste time,” I began, noticing my throat was dry, “and you certainly didn’t-”

“I didn’t hurt you at all, did I?”

“No.” Not that I knew of, yet. I’m sure when I try to stand, I’ll feel it then. “I’m glad to see you took my advice from last time.”

“You gave good advice, it would be foolish not to adhere to it.”

“Have things… improved for you, since we last saw each other?”

I asked, but I couldn’t say why. I guess I cared for the guy, in some respects.

He thought over his answer, licking his lips to moisten them as he spoke. “He’s… more distant than ever.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”  I wanted to roll into him, to offer him physical comfort, yet as I moved I felt the stickiness clinging to my torso. Gross. “Ah, tissues....”

“Here.”

I took the box of tissues held out to me, tugging a few loose and mopping up my mess. There was an embarrassing amount - I guess I was rather into things, too, despite my mood coming to the appointment. With my mess cleared away and the tissues discarded on the bedside cabinet (the cleaners could have fun with that), I was finally free to to nestle into him, my ear pressing to his chest. I listened to the sound of his rapid heart as it began to ebb into a normal beat, and traced idle patterns through the tufts of hair on his chest with my finger.

He hummed in the back of his throat, an appreciative, albeit sleepy sound.

“He’s stubborn, in his own way, and rude.” Erwin’s voice vibrated in his chest, rumbling into my ear. I felt his words punctuated into my mind. “Not many people like him.”

“He’s that bad? Then why do you like him?”

He laughed, and I felt like the storm was on top of me. “There’s something about him.”

“Everyone says that.” I wrinkled my nose. Was I any different to him? Could I realistically judge him? I was helplessly in love with a moody ass guy, too.

“It’s not just that. He’s misunderstood, his character is easily misunderstood. People don’t take time to get to know him.”

“Seems kind of sad, for you both.”

“It is. But I have lived with this feeling long enough, I can carry it longer.”

“Well, Mr. Smith,” I patted his chest, pushing myself up from the bed and onto very wobbly legs, “It’s about time I got home.”

The mattress creaked under shifting weight. “I love watching you move.”

I peered over my shoulder, to the sight of Erwin on his side, head propped on one hand, eyes fixated on me.

“You’ve certainly come out of your shell.” I mused, sauntering around the room for my discarded clothes. I was sure my pants ended up around here, somewhere…

“It’s as I said. I took your advice to heart. I can be as sad and miserable as I like outside these four walls. Everyone needs someplace to have peace, if only for a little while.”

My leg was halfway into my pants. I stopped, looking up at the somber expression on his aging face. It shadowed over his handsome features, an ominous presence. “Does he know?”

“He knows.”

“Then he’s an asshole.” Blunt.

It was true, if blunt.

The way this guy was being treated - it wasn’t fair. I barely knew him, yet I could easily vouch for his sincerity. Any man - or woman - would be lucky to have him. To keep him yearning all these years was sickening. It made me angry.

I slammed my leg into the remaining pant leg, and roughly yanked them up my legs. I swiped my shirt off the back of the couch, smoothing it over my body. I’d shower as soon as I got home. I knew if I stayed here much longer, I’d jump on the bed and blow him, if only because I felt like alleviating some of his emotional pain. I doubted it would even kiss the surface of it, instead it would make me feel like I was doing something, at least.

I patted my pockets. Phone, keys, wallet. Payment. Everything was in place.

There was one thing left to do.

Hips swaying, I approached the bed, where Erwin lounged on his back. The sheet was pooled around his waist, hiding nothing. The smell of sex was thick in the air, a lascivious aroma we’d created together. His hair, normally neatly locked in place, was a complete mess. I’d had my fun, dragging my fingers through it every which way as he fucked me. He never complained. Looking at my handiwork now, I couldn’t help the smile tugging on my lips.

“Well, Mr. Smith. See you next time.” Leaning on the bed, I planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. When his tongue rolled over mine, I moaned pleasurably, almost letting him pull me back in. I know he wanted to go a second time, but the time was up. I was already guilty of breaking rules for the Corporal, it is not something I should make a habit of.

Dragging myself off his lips, I headed for the door, giving one last lingering look. “Next time.” I closed the door behind me.

Alone in the hallway, I leaned on the wall, a moment of recluse indulgence now that I wasn’t serving up a fake personality to someone. It was hard work, pretending to be the carefree, no-problem hooker. A guy like Erwin, a talker, only made my job harder.

When his problem was worryingly like my own, it was even more difficult to stay detached. I don’t think I’m the best person to be seeing him, even if Hange insisted on it. I texted them now the appointment was over, and was hobbling into the elevator when their reply came.

 

 

> **Hange**   
>  _He adores you. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working for him. Thank you, Eren. Now, get your ass home safely!_

 

I scowled down at my phone, willing the letters to reshuffle into a more comfortable sentence. Something along the lines of, “You did well, that’s all that’s needed. I have someone else for you!”. Hell, anything besides what they actually wrote would do.

Oddly, I recalled feeling a similar way about the Corporal. There were times I didn’t want to see him, that I would have begged Hange not to make me return to him. Now, you couldn’t pry him from my cold, dead fingers.

I couldn’t let Erwin be my problem. He wasn’t my problem. Not now, not ever.

 

* * *

 

That fucking whistle. If it blew one more time, I was going to go over there and fucking smash the damn thing into a thousand pieces.

“Come on, Yeager! You can do better!” The teacher bellowed, strolling casually across the field in my direction. I was honestly not afraid to use my fist on them if they got too close, and their taunting walk towards me was only provoking me further. I knew the situation was bad, I didn’t need them riding my ass the entire lesson and making this shit worse. I knew it wasn’t good, I knew that when I looked up and saw Armin several meters in front of me. I was hanging, every step near agonizing to take. And this asshole was making me _run_. I swear to god, I’d take the last of my energy to run in his direction and end his  days of blowing into a fucking whistle.

“Eren.” Armin hovered over me, wiping the sweat from his brow onto the back of his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t… ask…” I panted, struggling to stand straight. I’d been bent over, hands on my knees. The position didn’t alleviate my problem but it was better than running. Fuck running.

“...Did you-”

One look up and Armin’s lips closed. The color of his cheeks told me he understood what was going on. Yeah, I didn’t need to spell it out, thankfully. We were still finding our way on this conversation, that’s true, and neither of us were ready for the explicit knowledge to be shared. He did not need to know a handsome older man, approximately twice my height and age, had pounded me into a luxury mattress for over an hour last night. No one needed to know that. It felt good at the time, too, though I was surely paying for every single thrust now.

Obviously I forgot, in the midst of enjoying myself last night, that I would have my sore ass hauled through this torture today. Trust me when I say I’d be on the phone to Hange later - I think they’d find it hilarious, so on second thought, scrap that.

“The lesson is still another twenty minutes, are you going to make it?” Armin asked, jogging alongside me.

“I should have… ahh… stayed home.” Oh, I ached. I’d check my asscheeks and hips for bruises later, there has to be some. Part of me was pleased to see Erwin was enjoying himself. My ass was not one of those parts, not today. Last night it was.

I’d gone home and showered for far too long, the water hot enough to burn my skin. It wasn’t my intention to remain that long, it just sort of happened that way. I got lost in my thoughts, and once there, couldn’t find my way back out. I was full of bad choices last night and I was paying back every single one of them tenfold.

Armin was my savior through it. Seeing him next to me made me feel a little better, and I pushed myself harder, hard enough that the asshole with the whistle backed off, anyway.

“I need to talk to Hange.” The lesson was finished, and only me and Armin remained in the changing room. I stuffed my gym clothes into my bag unceremoniously, and slung it over my shoulder. “These Wednesday appointments are way too taxing.”

“With exams around the corner, that’s a wise choice.” Armin agreed, and I groaned at the E-word. Time was running out for me, I really had to get my shit in order.

Or flunk school entirely, and become a full time hooker, until my body burned out. I could probably earn enough by my thirties to retire…

I was better than that. I was going to get some grades. I promised too many people, including myself.

“Keep me on the righteous path, okay, Armin?”

“I wouldn’t ask for the impossible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any comments, critics, thoughts, etc. I'd love to hear from you. Please do not be afraid!
> 
> And I'll hopefully see you all again soon!


	35. Boy, Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I want to apologise for the long wait. Work has been kicking my ass again and I've quite simply been too tired to put any effort into this. As a knock on from that, updates may move to every two weeks for the foreseeable future, so that I have time to actually put into this and make it worthwhile.
> 
> I am sorry.
> 
> As always, special thanks to my editor for giving this a read over for me.

Sugar.

It was oh-so-bad, but tasted oh-so-good. Even better when you were licking it off your fingertips, your mouth still full of the donut shoved in a moment before. I closed my eyes, savoring the sweetness as it filled my mouth. I didn’t care about the artery-clogging calories, not when they tasted this damn good.

I made a mental note to treat myself to a donut more often when meeting with Hange. They certainly sweetened the deal, and I was never much of a fan of hot drinks. I may have struck gold – or sugar.

“Your reaction to sweet food is fascinating.” Pushing their glasses further up their nose, Hange leaned across the table, towards me. When I opened my eyes, they were alarmingly close.

Close enough that I shifted back in my seat, attempting to put a measure of distance between us.

“Hange…” I warned, feeling uncomfortable. It was more than uncomfortable; Hange managed to somehow make me feel like a specimen, pinned down with needles in a glass box. “...It’s just a donut.” I insisted, knowing full well it would fall on deaf ears.

“Tell yourself that. You had such a look of concentrated euphoria… Did you know that the scent of donuts supposedly increases the blood flow to the male erection, allowing for a stronger arousal?”

And that was enough of that. I left the rest of the donut on the napkin, unable to bring myself to want to take another bite.

“I wanted to bring up my Wednesday appointment-”

“Ah! How’re things with Mr. Smith?” Hange’s eyes twinkled, starrier than a night sky.

“They’re going fine.” Yeah, fine. That’s what I wanted to say. I cleared my throat of sugar grains and tried a second time. “He’s quite _enthusiastic._ ”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

“I’m glad to hear it!” Hange’s face lit up, curiosity the source of the fire. “What does he like to do? Maybe I shouldn’t try, given that he’s a friend of mine.”

“A friend?”

They nodded, picking up the spoon beside their latte and dipping it into the hot drink. Hange stirred the spoon around, pouring extra sugar in with their free hand. “I’ve known him a very long time, in fact. You wouldn’t believe what he does for a living.”

I found that instead of Mr. Smith, I wanted to ask about the Corporal. I wanted to know what they knew, if anything. Hange probably didn’t know anything more than what I did, and I was hoping for too much in thinking they did, simply because they knew Erwin. Reeling in my excitement at the hopeless prospect, I tried my best to sound interested. “What does he do?”

“I couldn’t tell you that! It would violate confidentiality.” Hange shot me a knowing smile, taunting me. “I know a few of your clients. I went to school with them, in fact. Lost touch with them for quite a while, too. You would be surprised.”

I really, _really_ wanted to ask. I bit my tongue, opting to get the conversation back on track instead. “...So, the Wednesday appointment. Is there anyway I can change it? I have exams coming up in a few weeks and I need to study.”

Out came the organizer. Hange clicked their pen several times, musing over the pages of illegible scrawl. They looked pensive, brows knotting. “How long will you be busy with exams?”

“A month or so.” I dreaded the thought of them. Even now, I wanted to bang my head on the table, and this is before revision started. It was only set to get worse, but with my future riding on whatever I put down on those pages, I had to give it my all.

“Alright, no problem! I’ll put you on the back burner for awhile, until your exams are over. That suit you?”

“That works.”

“I’ll speak with Mr. Smith about the Wednesday. Are you still good for next week, at least?”

Not really. “Of course.”

“Excellent. That’s settled then.”

 

* * *

 

I liked to think I was the kind of man who took on any challenge. In my job, the ability to be versatile was considered the standard, and I liked to be anything but standard. I wanted to be amazing, even if I was just having copious amounts of sex. No request was too much, no kink too far. Okay, that was pushing it, but you get the idea. I liked to tackle new things head on, without fear or hesitation.

Crawl around on the floor and be a puppy for an hour? Sure, why not.

Have I been that much of a naughty boy that I need punishing? Absolutely. Bend me over your knee and spank my ass until it’s raw.

Watch you masturbate into a freshly baked pie? Go for it, I don’t mind.

That last one brings me neatly to my current predicament, in a way. I was no stranger to the obscure. I was prepared for absolutely almost anything. Except this.

“...Cooking?” I parroted, watching as the Corporal tied a pristine white apron around his waist.

“Yes. I thought it would be something different for us to do.” He wasn’t looking at me as he spoke. The apron dealt with, his attention was on the groceries arranged neatly on the countertop; fresh chicken breasts, broccoli, garlic, jars of spice.

This guy was serious.

“The broccoli needs to be steamed first. Knives are here.” He gestured to the knife rack. My blood ran cold.

“Sir, with all due respect… I don’t… cook.” I whispered the last word, feeling the shame of it finally dawn on me. I’d been content ordering takeout and eating leftovers, and enjoying whatever Mikasa made for me when she was there. I felt a tightness in my chest at her absence, that quickly subsided into fear as the Corporal pinned his steely gaze on me.

“Even an uneducated brat can learn this. Here, put this on.”

I took the offered apron and busied myself with tying the strings, putting off the inevitable for as long as humanly possible. It didn’t buy me much more than a couple of seconds, yet I revered them as if they were hours. I reached for one of the black handled knives, opting for the smallest, lest I leave here tonight with a finger or two less than I started. I was rather fond of my digits, especially when they numbered ten in all.

“Oi, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Uh…?” My hand quivered, seized mid-air by a tone sharper than any blade. Looking hesitantly over my shoulder, my eyes met with the Corporal. His sleeves were rolled up, and I was momentarily lost in the pleasure of his forearms, the carved muscles that I wanted nothing more than to have wrapped around me. Focus, Eren!

“Your hands,” he said thinly. “You should know what to do with them.”

I wanted to retort with a flirtatious line, something like, “You mean, hold you with them?”. I was too tongue tied to even try, and instead stumbled my way over to him, to the sink.

Turning the tap on for us both, he indicated for me to hold my hands up to the soap dispenser. Two squirts and the scentless liquid oozed into my hands. I lathered up leisurely, trying to remember to breathe as his shoulder rested against mine.

We shared a space, washing our hands together - he pumped the soap into my hands for me first, then his own. We lathered up. We rinsed. Domestic simplicity at its best, my heart ached for his as we played our little game of house.

All cleaned up, I carefully pulled out a knife, laying it down on the chopping board and grabbing the stalk of broccoli. It looked like a miniature Hulk-ified tree. I cut into the stalk, my focus intense as I feared for my fingers.

Levi carried a pan of water to the stove, the metal clunking as he placed it down. “When you’re eventually done with that, put the heads into here. I’ll fry the chicken.”

“Right.” I kept my eyes glued to the broccoli. I wanted to do this properly, and not fuck it up. Easier said than done when you had zero experience in the kitchen, and the man you regularly jacked yourself off to was moving around as gracefully as a skater on ice. He looked at ease, with his sleeves rolled  up and…

“What are you staring at?” He questioned, the sizzle as the chicken hit the heated oil startling me from my wayward thoughts.

“N-Nothing.” I cleared my throat nervously, and finished the broccoli. “Here.”

“That’ll do. We’ll add it to the mix in a minute, first I need the sauces. One tablespoon of each.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Under his instruction, I drizzled the sauce into the frying pan, standing back as I watched him flip the chicken breast around the pan with a skilled ease.

“You cook it until the breast is no longer pink - juices must be clear. You’ll kill yourself otherwise.”

I swallowed, hard. “That doesn’t sound good. Do you… do you enjoy cooking?”

“Not exactly. It’s a life skill, that’s all.”

“Oh.” I think, though I’m not sure, I was just insulted. A little.

“Next, I need you to…”

The Corporal gave me clear instructions on preparing the remaining ingredients. I sliced garlic, (three times in fact, the first and second times were apparently unacceptably thick), chopped up the spring onion, and measured out the pepper. I followed his words carefully, finding my way around the space. I was learning where he kept the other utensils - discovered whilst looking for the cutlery - and was suitably impressed at how well laid out the drawer was.

Everything, of course, had its place. Back home, it was a cluttered mess and digging for the right tool was a dangerous task. I should have expected nothing less of the Corporal than a neat, well-planned kitchen.

“Here,” He said, holding the spatula out for me to take, “Keep stirring. I’ll add the other ingredients.”

“Right.” I took the spatula from him, my breath halting as our fingers momentarily made contact. He wasn’t wearing his gloves again, and his skin felt warm on my own. I only wished it lasted longer, but then I may have died of asphyxiation if it had. My heart beat wildly as he came back over, sprinkling the diced garlic and crushed chillis into the pan. I heartily mixed it all together, my mouth watering as the rich aroma wafted over my senses.

“It smells… so good…!” I chimed, and my stomach rumbled in immediate anticipation.

“It’s almost ready.”

“Sweet!”

“I’ll get the dishes ready. Turn the heat down, let it simmer.”

“Got it.” The bubble of the sauce was oddly therapeutic, but it clashed with the clatter as Levi prepared the plates and cutlery for us. It also clashed with the realization I was seconds away from sitting down to a meal with this man. Holy shit.

I wasn’t ready for this. My hands shook, the spatula trembling as I idly poked at the chicken, my mind racing. Over my shoulder, I glanced the cutlery laid out on the countertop. He positioned them opposite each other.

My first proper meal with someone else. And we cooked it together, no less. My heart swelled with romantic joy, and I knew this was a memory I would treasure for a very, very long time. I’d eaten plenty of decent food with Mikasa and Armin, sure. This felt completely different.

“Serve it up.” The Corporal placed two plates on the side, and with every ounce of my being, I willed my hands not to shake. With the spatula, I inched a portion of chicken onto each plate, and slopped the sauce over the top with little to no finesse. The end result? – was not half fucking bad, if I do say so myself.

“Congratulations, brat. You cooked your first meal.” The Corporal lifted the plates, carried them to the island, and set them down before taking the nearest seat. Hs apron was folded up on the side, and mine soon joined it.

“Thank you.” I said, wondering if the quiver in my voice was real or imagined. “For teaching me this.” I sat myself down, my stomach giving another low rumble. _Soon, my friend._

“Don’t mention it. It’s about time you learned, I’m sure.” The Corporal sliced into the chicken, scooping sauce onto his fork and bringing it to his mouth. He made a sound of acceptance in his throat, to which I then began to sample our dish, too.

It did taste good. The chicken was perfectly tender, the vegetables crisp, the sauce spiced. I’d need to pop a mint in my mouth prior to my next appointment. Completely worth it, though, for this; to have dinner with the Corporal.

“Can I trust that with this, you’ll eat properly at home?”

His question resonated in me. Im sure it meant nothing - but it sounded like he was worried about me. I wanted to think that was what it was, and it was easy to fool myself that that was the truth. “I can definitely try it. Not sure it’ll taste as good as it does now.” Company sure made all the difference. I tried to say it, yet the chicken I stuffed into my mouth kept it down.

“If you don’t burn the house down, we’ll consider it a success.”

“You have faith in me, right, Sir?”

“You made it this far, I guess. If I can teach myself how to cook, you should  be able to manage it too.”

“You’re self-taught?”

His jaw tensed. “It was either that or nothing.”

“I-”

My voice cut off, the shrill shriek of my cursed alarm reminding me once more that our time was finished tonight. The same as last time, I fished it from my pocket and silenced it, a dark mood settling over me. We were only halfway through our food. I stared down at my plate, crestfallen.

I was having too much fun. I was having way too much fun, engaging with the Corporal and not thinking of my exams. I hadn’t told him I wouldn’t be able to see him for a while, either. I didn’t want to spoil the mood of the evening, though despite my efforts, it happened anyway.

My hand clenched into a fist on the table as inside of me a war waged on.

Could I stay? Text Hange now, or just not show up? A risky move, the thought of it sending a dizzying rush of adrenaline through me. Would the Corporal let me stay?

“I don’t want to go.” I whispered, aware that I sounded like a petulant child. I locked eyes with him, saw the tension around his eyes, my reluctance to depart reflected back. That’s when I decided to do something completely reckless.

I left my future hinged on his next words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's another chapter further along. I do hope you're all enjoying it still and I hope you'll leave me plenty of comments to read!


	36. You Don't Know What You've Got, Until It's Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your patience. I'm sorry for making you all wait two weeks now. My schedule will hopefully be clearer soon (though I do have several trips way coming up - Paris, MCM expo) so I can't promise regular updates through October/November.
> 
> Please continue to be patient with me.
> 
> As ever, thank you to my ball busting editor for her continued assistance, and to all of you who have commented and left kudos.

The emotion in those eyes of jade was one that would forever haunt me. He looked as if betrayed, stabbed in the back by his Judas – I twirled the knife in my fingers, my appetite vanished. The food was but ash in my mouth, the flavor lingering on my tongue nothing more than a bitter aftertaste. In my head, I vividly replayed the steps leading up until now, each time over leaving me more and more irate.

With no one to blame but myself, the feelings circulated inside me like a storm gathering strength. 

With a clatter, I dropped the knife onto the plate.

My hands fled into my hair, clung to the strands as if they would save me from falling further. I laughed into the empty room, to the vacant stool, the sound bursting out of me uncontrolled. I was a fucking mess. Of course I’d fall further, and I’d keep falling until I broke every bone in my body, at the very bottom of the pit that boy had cast me into. 

Either he’d thrown me down, or I’d jumped willingly – I wasn’t sure which I preferred, which I was ready to admit to. The last thing I’d see before it all snuffed out would be those eyes, those fucking eyes.

When my fingers pulled hard enough to hurt, I let my hair go. Maybe that’d knock some sense into me, though I doubted it by this point. 

The mess of his presence was everywhere. It littered over the countertop behind me, on the cooker where he’d spilt the sauce, on the table next to his plate where a stray stalk of broccoli had escaped his fork and gone unnoticed. But most of all, the biggest fucking mess of all that he’d made, was inside me. He opened up the box I kept locked away, unceremoniously picking out each emotion and tossing them over his shoulder in search of the next one. At the very bottom of that cursed box…

I’d slam the lid down before he got that far. 

Maybe I was too late. 

He was gone now. I’d let him go to wherever it was he had to be, wherever in this world that needed his attention more than me. Was it too late to call him back?

My phone felt like a lead weight in my pocket. It pinned me to my seat, stopped me from acting rashly. I don’t know how, or what it was I thought to do. He’d gone, to somewhere else in this city. Hell, maybe even the next one over from here. He could be anywhere.

He was anywhere. Anywhere but _ here _ .

Those eyes. I would never forget them. The chill they sent down my spine, the way they made my heart feel too big for my chest. It was an uncomfortable feeling, unnerving, and I had been too distracted by it to notice anything else.

Nonsense. I was reading too much into things. My head had gone soft, filled with nonsensical delusions of what that boy actually was to me. What I was to him. I liked his company, it didn’t mean he liked mine. He wasn’t meant to like me.

He enjoyed my money more than my words. I was an idiot to think any more of it than that.

I was an idiot who pulled his phone out of his pocket. I wanted to believe in something more, just once. I wanted to take a chance.

My fingers led me to his number, scrolling through the menus of my phone with ease. If I dialled, I would hear his voice - full of hope and excitement, stuttering as he often did when surprised.

He was flustered all too easily. It was the times he brimmed with an impossible confidence, as if from nowhere, that got to me. He was carried on an ever-changing wind, and I never knew where it would take him, I never knew what was coming next. A shy, hesitant admission or a bold declaration that would set my heart racing, it was impossible to know.

When the first ring echoed up from my phone, I pressed it to my ear. A second and third ring, I was still hopeful. By the fifth ring my breath stopped.  _ Click. _

The line went dead, and so did the drum beating in my chest.

I stared at my phone as the screen turned as dim as the light in my eyes. He wasn’t going  to answer my call – and that fact hurt more than I ever imagined possible. I shook my head, battling to fathom the unexpected complexity of how he made me feel. 

“Come back.” I looked to the stool opposite me, willing him to materialize and growing agitated when he didn’t. My hand gripped my phone, shaking. He was someone else’s right now, and I could do nothing but accept the fact I sent him there. If I had told him to stay, he would have.  I wanted that so much to be true. So, why didn’t he answer me?

I really was an idiot. I laughed bitterly, and in the emptiness of the room it echoed, laughing back at me, distorting my misery into something of a mockery. 

I wasn’t going to sit here and take this.  I couldn’t do it to myself. I needed to regain control before I was swallowed up in the storm.

I got to my feet, and with my keys and phone in my pocket, headed for the door. I needed to clear my head of this ridiculousness, of all the mess he’d left behind in his wake. 

The dishes could stay until I was ready to come back. I closed the door on it all, my jaw set with a steely determination. When I came back here, it would be as a clear-headed man once more.

I marched down the hall to the elevator with an undefined purpose, my destination as yet unknown. I was going for a drive, to wherever the road took me. I would drive to the edge of the night if I had to, just to escape these feelings.

Slipping behind the wheel of my car, I started up the engine and pushed my foot down on the gas. 

It was odd, coming here alone. 

My shoes crunched over the gravel as I gained my footing, and eased myself out of the vehicle. I shut the door behind me, and strolled up the incline. There was no idle conversation as I walked, no second set of footsteps following after me, no stolen glances. 

There was no sound of amazement as the view opened up, only the wind blowing through, cool and easy. I gripped at the railing, looking out across my favorite view. 

I don’t know what I expected. I hoped for clarity, mostly, but the city below gave me nothing. All I could think about was him, standing here beside me, and how the air prickled between us. It was calm tonight, nothing but a soft breeze blowing through. It lifted the tendrils of my hair, and for a moment I closed my eyes and imagined.

I imagined his fingers running through my hair, the warmth of his touch on my skin, the way he would hesitate before committing. I imagined the smell of his skin, unperfumed but for his sweat, his natural scent. I imagined the warmth of him as he stayed close to me, the palm of his hand gliding through my hair. I imagined the way his breathing would tickle my forehead, faltering slightly every now and then.

_ I was going to be Erwin’s. I am Erwin’s. _

I chanted the words in my head like a mantra. I was reminding myself of it, shouting the words inside me loud enough to erase the nonsense I’d let myself think. It felt like a bandaid over a broken leg; completely useless, but I was at least making some semblance  an effort. I’d been convincing myself of that fact for years, so much so I believed it to be a fact. It was a fact. And I was going to prove it.

Turning my back on the cityscape, I headed back to my car. Now I had a purpose, I had somewhere to go, someone to be with. Just like the brat I’d sent away, there was a place I had to be. I was going to Erwin’s.

On the outskirts of town, where trees lined the roadside and houses peered over the tops of metal fences and brick walls, was Erwin’s residence. Privilege perfumed the air, pungent and suffocating. In comparison to here, my apartment was in a rough part of town. 

A glance at the digital clock on my dashboard revealed in a greenish tint that it was late. Erwin would most certainly home, most likely watching some shitty television drama while finishing some reports. He was a workaholic, eternally focused on the progression of his business. I mused that man ate, slept, and shat his work. He was married to it. I didn’t judge him for that, as he was responsible for giving me the the freedom to live as I did. I owed everything I had to him, and in return I helped make him even wealthier. 

I turned onto his street, driving a short way down the road before pulling to a stop. I didn’t come to this area often. Something about the coldness of the houses put me off. That’s all they were; houses. They weren’t homes, no matter how you dressed them up. I say this as if I knew better. I didn’t. 

There it was. The Smith residence. 

Two floors of architectural magnificence, set back from the road with a paved driveway leading up to it. From where I sat, I could see several windows lit up with the warmth of light from within, dimmed by the drawn curtains. 

His home was too big for a single man. He must rattle around from room to room, like a ghost with nowhere to go. I could relate to that feeling.

He should settle down, get himself a good woman and a couple of kids. That would fill up the space, and soon he’d be tripping over tiny feet and toys. Hell, even a dog would be better than the nothingness he had now.

I cut the engine. 

I was here. 

All that was left for me to do was get out of the car, walk the short distance to his front door, and let things unfold as they should have done years before this moment. My hand was resting on the handle, all the strength in me fading away. I was hesitating. Something held me back. Something was stopping me from making myself truly belong to someone, and as I looked up from my sweaty hand, I saw the very reason for my indecision.

In an instant my world swirled, turned upside down, and tore itself inside out all at once. It was a sickening feeling that rocked my stomach, knocked the air clean from my lungs and flooded my head with everything and nothing but once. Above the white noise filling my brain I heard his laugh, and my heart lurched.

Key in the ignition, I started the engine more forcefully than I should have, swinging the car out into the road without even bothering to look. My foot pushed down on the gas, and in a speedy haze, I left that godforsaken street behind me.

Yet no matter how fast I drove, I couldn’t outrun the memory of what I had witnessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Was it okay?
> 
> Please let me know. Reading your feedback is truly the highlight of my life.


	37. Without A Paddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I hope you are all doing well. I've been working hard to catch up - special shoutout to the ereri discord channel for helping me find my motivation again. I received so many beautiful encouragements the other day! You're a great bunch.
> 
> Second shout out to my editor for providing invaluable insight as always and for helping my work be the best it can be.

I trusted Hange. Lord knows why I did. I put it in the (growing) list alongside the other questionable choices I’d made so far in my life. For a boy my age, there sure was a worrying amount of things I’d done to date. That is besides the point.

The point is, when they texted to inform me of a change of location, I trusted their judgement. Sliding into the back of the cab, I tried my damndest not to look back up at the Corporal’s apartment. I failed, and my eyes looked to the doorway. In my heart of hearts, I was praying he would appear there, breathless and flushed and my name jumping from his lips.

I fumbled with the address for the cab driver, buying time. It was time I didn’t need in the end, the cab pulling away with my heart still nailed to the sidewalk. The Corporal hadn’t changed his mind, and I was off to spend the rest of my evening with Mr. Smith, at his residence.

House calls were strictly forbidden.

An exception was being made, on the grounds that Hange knew Mr. Smith on a personal level. I wasn’t sure how exactly those two would know each other,  the refined, clean-cut Erwin seemingly at odds with the rough-around-the-edges Hange. I wondered what twist of fate brought them into such close proximity, but whatever.

My job taught me not to judge on appearances alone. It didn’t teach me not to be curious, though.

Musing over those two was a pretty distraction from the heaviness in my chest. It was there regardless, like a gremlin sitting on my ribs, snarling and poking his fingers into all the parts of me that hurt, whether I acknowledged it or not.

I couldn’t be upset at the Corporal. We’d been here a few times before, and I always managed to walk away feeling bruised. I set myself up for the failure; I should know by now, I was a paid for service and meant nothing more to him. My feelings were my own, not shared. He didn’t want them, so why did I insist on trying to share them?

My mom always taught me to share. What was mine was also yours, and like that I wanted to share my love with him. Like the scarf I gave to Mikasa, I was trying so hard to give the Corporal a piece of me, too. I clung to the hope that he would carry a part of me with him forever, despite him never showing any inclination to do so.

His arms were full with the love of another, weren’t they? A fact I conveniently liked to forget.

Wasn't Mr. Smith the same, also? I didn’t like the feeling of climbing into the same boat as him, but here I was anyway. I think the sign post read Shit’s Creek, and I’d certainly lost the paddle by this point.

I texted Hange to give myself something to do. I told them I was en route, and that if I ended up chopped into pieces and served for dinner, I would haunt them for all eternity. Their response was unfazed by my threats.

I was nervous about visiting a private residence, but given my heartache, I was in just the mood for reckless, self-destructive behavior. If Mr. Smith had a playroom to show me after a helicopter ride around the city, I may just be persuaded to give up all my sanity in exchange. That said, I very much doubted he was the abusive type. I’d seen an impossibly vulnerable side of him, one I knew he was unable to show to just anyone. He was incapable of cruelty; he cared too much, if anything. That was his fault. His respect for other people’s feelings left him suffering in silence.

I understood his pain.

Unrequited love was a bitch.

The cab pulled into a fancy ass part of town I’d never had the luxury of stumbling into. My eyes widened, growing as large as the houses – mansions, let’s do them justice – that sprawled either side of the road. You could fit four of my house into each of these! I was gawking, and the driver caught my face in the rearview.

“Haha - first time to this part of town?”

“Yeah…Uh, I’m visiting a relative. They just moved here.”

“That’s good for them. Well, this is it.” The car slowed, the breaks letting out a whine. I wanted to make a similar sound as I handed over the fare and stepped out. I was out of place here. The hotel was one thing, this was completely on another level.

I half expected security to rugby tackle my ass to the ground as I crept up the driveway, looking lost and afraid. I didn’t belong here. My shoes didn’t cost enough money to walk over this ground, and with every step I could feel my presence tarnishing the neighborhood.

That’s why these guys preferred to take me to hotels out of town. They wouldn't dare invite the filth into the sanctity of their homes. Mr. Smith was different, apparently. Without a wife and children to protect, I guess it didn’t matter so much. And who would question a young man arriving at this hour? I could pass for his son, or a distant relative.

It wasn’t my problem if I was seen - it wasn’t my risk to take. No one would recognize me here, and if they did?

They were a customer, who would they tell?

I was stood like an idiot on the doorstep, wondering if I should tap my knuckle on the glass panelling or look for a bell, when the door opened. I expected a well dressed, snotty nosed butler to greet me. Instead, I was met with Mr. Smith’s broad chest, covered by a pastel pink shirt. The top three buttons were undone, and his sleeves rolled up. He looked collected and laid-back, returning my smile easily, if not tenfold.

“Delivery for you, Mr. Smith. It’s a rather large package.” I said, being all too fond of bad pickup lines. It must have worked, his amused chuckle only serving to encourage my bad humor trait. He stepped aside to let me in.

“You’re modest, at least.” He quipped, closing the door after me. “That’s what I like about you.”

I didn’t have a response to his humor. I was too busy stuffing my eyeballs back into their sockets, as reluctant as they were to return to normal. I figured Mr. Smith was rich, but this was something else.

The hallway was expansive. With a sweeping staircase to the right, and doors leading off either side, I couldn’t help but be a little jealous. My place suddenly felt small and pathetic, not that I would feel comfortable in a home of these proportions. Mr. Smith was at least relaxed, with his brown house shoes - they were slippers, I swear - and chill mannerisms. He led me through, past the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Take a seat. Are you hungry?” He asked, heading to the sink. He poured me a glass of water and set it in front of me. I took a place at the island, running my hands over the smooth stainless steel countertop admiringly. It was a modern-looking home, full of the latest gadgets and goodies, and that I gathered from the short walk from the front door to here.

The fridge was bigger than my bed, ice dispenser on the front and probably a hundred other modes, like the toilets in Japan that sing and wipe your ass for you. He more than likely had one of those. The question was, which floor?

“Ah, no. I just… ate.” I felt a pang in my chest. I washed it down with a gulp of icy water.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t like you being hungry. Here, before I forget.” Erwin slid me the envelope. I popped it in my back pocket, thanking him quietly. That part always felt awkward, but necessary. The ones who are upfront made it less awkward, and I was genuinely grateful that Erwin fell into that category.

I felt myself relax, my personal feelings crammed into a box and thrown in the ocean of my mind. “What are you planning to do with me tonight, Mr. Smith?”

He leaned on the sink, arms folded over his chest. I loved a man with rolled up sleeves, especially one that was as easy on the eye as Erwin.

He looked thoughtful, as if he were seriously contemplating my question, and I could only wonder what he was going to come out with. Truthfully, I wanted to go home, hold my pillow, and cry my eyes out. My tears, sadly, wouldn’t pay the bills, and so there I was, paying them with other fluids instead. My dad said to me that one day I would learn to adult, although I’m not sure this is how he meant for me to fulfill that prophecy.

I watched as another button on his shirt popped open. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited you here instead of our usual arrangement. I’m sure you can appreciate that this is an expensive hobby.”

I’m a hobby now? That’s… new.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Hange trusts you with my well being. Besides, I can scream pretty loud if I need to.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I’d love to test that theory.”

I could feel myself blushing under his scrutiny, his eyes taking on an intense gleam. This was only my third time seeing him, but already he was gaining in confidence. It was amazing what a little sexual therapy could do for a man.

Erwin walked around the island, to my side, and in one easy motion he lifted me into his arms. I admit I squealed in surprise, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs bout his waist. He didn’t mind, the smirk on his face growing as he held me.

He was strong. He looked strong, and now I had all the proof I could want of that fact.

“I must admit,” he began, his hands cupping my ass and squeezing it harder than perhaps was normal, “I wonder how much people do for you?”

 _More than you’d expect_ , I thought, but quickly shoved it aside. I liked the sound of where this was going. He lowered me onto the island countertop, my legs dangling over the edge. I rested my palms on his chest, our bodies close, his heartbeat beneath my hand.

“Mhm. I wonder.”

Leaning forward, his lips found mine in a brief kiss. “Would you like it…?” His voice trailed off, his hands trailed down, all the way to my groin. He pressed his hand into me, feeling my cock through my clothes. Instantly it responded, twitching eagerly as if to beckon more prominent attention.

“Whatever you want to do, is fine by me. I’m all yours.” I whispered the last part, clinging to the collar of his shirt and dragging his lips back to mine. This time I could feel the stubble on his chin grazing my lips, but I didn’t care to stop.

I wanted to sink myself into pleasure to forget my misery, just like the men I served. We were not so different, and in fact, Erwin and I were completely the same. If he was taking solace in my company, then I should take leaf from his book and seek out equal comfort in his.

His fingers made short work of my belt, and before I knew it he’d shuffled my tight pants down around my ankles, along with my underwear. I hissed as the cold surface met with my ass, laying back and propping myself up on my elbows. It wasn’t the most comfortable position or place to do this in, but there was far worse. I soon forgot all about that aspect.

Erwin’s lips were wrapped around the side of my throbbing cock, dragging from base to tip in a torturously slow ascent. My back arched, my hand flying into the golden locks of his hair. I gripped almost viciously, trying to guide myself into the depths of his mouth. He resisted me easily, choosing instead to tease his way down the other side of my dick.

“...Fuck…” I groaned, my head tilting back. His free hand pushed my pulsing hips down, locking me in place. “Ah… c’mon…”

“Patience.” He said, breath hot on my wet skin. His voice sunk deep into me, chasing out the misery and replacing it carefully with pleasure. I could feel him grinning against me as he kissed my tip, slurping lewdly at the precum as it oozed out.

“Ah...no fair…”

“You can do it. I want to take my time with you a little, if that’s okay.”

Fuck me, it was perfectly fine. I was happy running from my problems. In fact, right now, I couldn’t care less about skipping school tomorrow. All I cared about was getting the satisfaction I craved, and as his mouth came down over my cock, I was lost to the world.

I moaned without reserve as he took me whole, the tightness of his throat constricting around me. I hadn’t been blown in the longest time, and now it was happening, I never wanted it to end. His grip on me was firm, however, pushing gently down on me whenever my hips dared to rise from the countertop. I pleaded with him, small whimpers jumping freely from my lips. He felt so fucking good on me, and I was in the perfect state of mind to lose myself to him.

“Fuck, Erwin…!” I gasped, digging my teeth into my bottom lip. “I’m gonna come if you...ah… carry on…”

His mouth pulled back, our eyes meeting. I must admit, the sight of my dick pressed against his face, shining with his thick saliva, was enough to make me blush. My cock jerked, and a fresh droplet of precum leaked out from the slit. He used the thumb of his free hand to smear it across my tip, making me shudder.

“You can come anytime you like.”

That was probably going to be much sooner than he anticipated.

His lips circled around me again, the dizzying warmth of his mouth slowly inching down my cock. I groaned, low and deep, renewing my hold on his hair as he took me completely.

In just a few tantalizing sweeps of his mouth, I lost all my control. My orgasm ripped through my body, my toes curling in my shoes as I struggled to keep conscious.

Into Erwin’s hungry mouth I shot my load, and watched in sleepy satisfaction as he swallowed every last drop I gave him.

Little did I know, that would far be the end of things for the evening.

 

* * *

 

“I won’t be seeing you for a while.” I said, hobbling down the stairs. Erwin followed after me, buttoning up his shirt, a low hum in his throat. “I’ve got to take some time off, personal things.”

“I see. When do you think you’ll be back?” I could hear the disappointment in his voice, and the hope that my answer is favorable. After having spent the last few hours pounding me into his mattress, I guess he was keen for more. I found it therapeutic myself, and realized I understood this guy better now than I originally thought possible. We had too much in common, a painful fact that crept over me as

I headed for the door. It was time for me to slink back home, to curl up in my blanket, and cry over my broken heart. There was nowhere left for me to run to; all I could do was face it head on, even if my cheeks were stained with tears.

“A few weeks. Hange will let you know.”

He nodded, carefully keeping the inner workings of his mind to himself. He opened the door for me, and I stepped out into the crisp air of the early morning. I breathed it in, turning to face him one last time. “I had fun tonight. Thank you.”

“As did I. You’re really helping me to deal with things.”

“I’m an unconventional form of therapy.” I joked, and he laughed.

In the distance, I could hear the revving of an engine, the screech of tires as a car launched itself into motion. I looked in the direction of the sound, but see nothing. Someone was clearly in a hurry to leave.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Erwin said, his gaze meeting mine.

I waved goodbye, hooking my phone out of my pocket. Erwin had called me a cab not too long before, leaving me to wait awkwardly for its arrival. I sent Hange a message, the typical ‘he didn’t kill me’ signifier. Their response was late, arriving when I was already in the back of the car.

I barely registered what it said. I was too tired to focus, my mind distracted as my foul mood came back to haunt me. I slouched down on the plush seating, pouting, face mired with bad feelings. I was only able to shelve my thoughts for so long, suspending them while I kept Mr. Smith from feeling them. I’ve no doubt he, too, would spend the rest of his evening feeling the same way I did. It was a fucked up situation for us both - if only the men we sought knew how they made us suffer.

Since it didn’t much matter, I decided to text the Corporal in the morning. He could wait a few more hours to know I wouldn’t be back around for sometime.

Yeah, I was dealing just fine with his rejection.

Just fine.

So fine, in fact, that when I finally got home, I headed straight for the freezer, to the tub of ice cream I had stored there for special occasions. Occasions like this.

Ice cream was the cure to all my problems, especially when it was laced with caramel. I reached for the tub when I was struck with an unpleasant memory. The Corporal had a sweet tooth.

He must like ice cream, too.

What once would have been valued as a comfort now struck me hard, like a back handed blow to the side of my face.

I closed the freezer door, resting my forehead on the cold surface as the first drops of salty rain drizzled over my cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I know I say it a lot... but I won't ever stop being grateful for it. Without your support, this fic wouldn't be happening. 
> 
> Please feel free to drop your thoughts in the comments. Whatever they may be; I do very much appreciate reading them.
> 
> I'll see you guys in two weeks!


	38. Saturday Night Study Session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Thank you for being here, on the verge of forty chapters later! Wow. I'm not sure which of us deserves the praise; me for writing it, or you lot for reading it all. Heck.
> 
> Very important for you to note is that I may not update again until November. I will do my best to get another chapter out but I absolutely cannot promise anything. If you want to stay up to date with events, please [check out my blog!](https://captain-cleanliness.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, please welcome the new addition to the editing team!

He was sulking with me, I could tell.

The first sign of trouble was that he wouldn’t look at me.

The second was his refusal to give me any form of coherent response to anything I said to him.

So far, the most he offered up was a single word, otherwise resorting to nothing more than grunts and huffy exhales. His temper was nothing I couldn’t handle - I grew up alongside an angry ball; this was nothing beyond my expertise. It didn’t, however, mean I wanted to date one. I’d worked those feelings through once already, though I’d admit I certainly seemed to have a type.

“Jean,” I sighed, placing the pile of textbooks down a little bit more forcefully than I wanted. It worked in getting his attention, at least. The way Jean’s broad shoulders jerked in surprise at the sound made me smile with satisfaction, although I worked hard to suppress it. “Are you going to be like this all afternoon?”

“...No. Not if you stay here.” He was toying with a loose thread on the hem of his pants, twisting it around his finger and letting it unravel before repeating the process over. I stood watching him, admiring the way the soft afternoon sun set his features. He was handsome, even when his lips were plump with a pout.

“You’re going camping together soon. This’ll be a good opportunity for the two of you to… bond, or something.” I returned to the books, sorting through the ones I’d need and stacking them together. Knowing Eren, he’d need to go over everything, but this would have to do for now. “It’ll be reassuring to know one of you won’t be staying in the woods forever.”

“Obviously he’d be the one buried there, not me. He’ll probably get lost in the first five minutes or-” Jean’s rant ceased when he looked up, seeing the unimpressed look on my face. His bottom lip moved several times as his words fell silent. “...Alright, alright. Fine. We called a truce, didn’t we?”

“You did. Now uphold it, and while you’re holding that you can also hold these.” I dumped the heaviest books onto his lap, ignoring his muttered protesting as I gathered the rest. “That looks set to be everything. Let’s go.”

The original plan for tonight was for Jean and me to be studying together. When Eren asked me to help him prepare for finals, I couldn’t ignore him. His mood had taken a plunge, declining further with each day passing. I knew it was more than just exam time blues. In fact, I already had a pretty good idea of what was causing him to feel this way.

I felt I understood his pain, if only a little, and I wanted to do what I could to ease him out of it. I was going to keep him company, and with a bit of luck, help him pass his exams. I knew full well I wasn’t the person he wanted or needed to see, but, then again, I never was that person for him.

Nothing changed as far as that was concerned. As his friend, I would do all I could to help him.

Jean trudged down the staircase after me, textbooks balanced in his arms.

“You boys off to study?” Grandpa asked as we passed by the living room. He was smoking his pipe, occupying his chair in the corner, the television flickering.

I gestured for Jean to go on ahead, and poked my head into the living room. “We’ll be back late. Dinner is in the fridge, you just need to heat it in the microwave.”

Grandpa smiled warmly, a puff of thick grey whirling around his face as he waved us off. He’d be asleep soon, the dinner in the fridge forgotten. It was there if he needed it.

Picking up my keys, I left the house, closing the door quietly after  myself. Jean was waiting on the sidewalk, impatiently shuffling his weight from one foot to the other.

Hurrying over with an apology, he shrugged his shoulders and started to walk in the direction of Eren’s place.

The weather outside was pleasant, with the slightest bite of cold in the air. I cradled the books closer to my chest, wishing now I’d given Jean less of a burden. I wanted his arm around me. Instead I was settling for the hard firmness of… a math textbook.

“Has he asked you anything yet?” Jean said. “Y’know, about… us.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think he has noticed. If he has, it doesn’t seem to be bothering him. What about your mom?”

“I haven’t told her.”

“Oh. Well, there’s plenty of time for that later.”

“She’s still badgering me about grandchildren,” Jean lifted his head, looking up to the sky as he spoke, seeing into a future I wasn’t privy to. “I don’t know why she thinks I’ll be fathering an entire army of them, but it’s all she talks about.”

It’s not something I’d given much thought. Children. Did I want them? Did Jean want them? With me?

Now certainly wasn’t the time.

I was too busy with finals to be worrying about that. Finals, and Eren.

My heartbeat picked up as we rounded the corner, his house coming into view. I’d done this walk a thousand times without thinking twice. Today was somehow different, and I wondered if _I_ was going to be able to focus with all the extra baggage I was apparently carrying with me. If I wasn’t able to get myself on the right track, Eren didn’t stand a chance. Even so, my heart refused to slow down its frantic pace.

The cold chill to the air was gone. I felt hot and breathless, a layer of sweat threatening my grip on the books. In my mind, thoughts whirled past me too quickly for me to have a chance to examine any single one.

“You alright, Armin? You’re a little pale.”

“Mhm? Oh, I’m fine.” I smiled thinly, hoping it was enough to fool him out of worry. If it wasn’t, he didn’t mention it, and I was content with that.

I hadn’t met with Eren outside of school since the time I cornered him in the hotel. Tonight would be the first time, and Jean was with me. To his credit, Jean hadn’t once asked me about what Hange’s diary contained. I never offered the information, either. He was in the dark about Eren’s extracurricular activities, and I wasn’t going to be the one to let it out of the bag.

Regardless, I was hesitating on the porch of Eren’s house. Would things be different between us? I sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be the case. I wanted to be the same as I always was, yet the fear stayed there, sitting in the pit of my stomach, telling me I couldn’t be myself.

“You sure you’re alright?” Jean pressed. “We don’t have to do this. We can go home right now-”

I knocked on the door. “He needs my help,” I said resolutely, more to myself than Jean.

“He’s sure taking his sweet ass time to answer,” Jean muttered.

I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow, shooting him a look that I wiped clean from my face as the door finally opened. On the other side was a sleepy looking Eren, hair tousled and unkempt, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

“Hey, Eren,” I beamed warmly. “You ready to do some studying? Jean wanted to help out, too. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Whatever.” Eren left the door open for us, already retreating into the heart of the house before we’d even stepped inside. Tonight was going to be tough.

I didn’t have room to be nervous. I didn’t have room to let myself be selfish, and so I swallowed it all, boldly stepping over the threshold with renewed determination. If Eren was going to be an even bigger child than Jean, it was my job to snap him the hell out of it.

Boy trouble or not, all of our futures were riding on our exam results.

I followed after Eren, to the living room, with Jean in tow. What waited for us there was beyond my worst nightmare.

He’d always been a bit messy but this was… it was something else.

Dirty laundry piled up here and there, and littered amongst the piles of worn socks and t-shirts were old food cartons and candy wrappers. It must have been building since Mikasa left, but something told me the level of trash had accrued considerably in recent days. I couldn’t smell the putrid odor of rotting, at least not yet, and that reassured me Eren was taking care of things, despite how it looked.

Setting my things down beside the coffee table, I cleared a space for the three of us to work in. Eren was on the couch, finishing off the bag of chips he’d been eating when we arrived.

“The fuck is this? You’re such a slob, Eren,” Jean scoffed, looking around at the state of things. His first time here, and it wasn’t a good impression by a long shot.

Eren didn’t it faze him. He shrugged his shoulders, looking into the now empty bag of chips before tossing it aside.

“We’re not here to discuss Eren’s natural habitat. Instead, why don’t we look at…” I picked a textbook from Jean, and read from the cover, “ _The Complete Guide To English - Advanced_ _Level_. Jean, put those books down and let’s get started, shall we?”

“Put them down? Where, exactly?” To emphasize his point, Jean twisted around, looking pointedly at the severe lack of space on the floor.

“There, put them there, on top of the others. See? That’s good. Now, Eren… Where would you like to start, exactly?”

“At the end. The end is good,” Eren replied.

“English it is.” I made myself comfortable on the floor, pushing the rubbish on the coffee table far away enough to house a textbook. “Jean, sit next to Eren.”

I ignored the sound of disapproval from the both of them. So much for that truce.

To be honest, it should’ve been expected when neither of them were in a good mood. The situation was less than ideal, but if I was able to shelve my feelings of anxiety and awkwardness for the greater good, then I expected them to do the same.

This was for their benefit, after all.

I opened the textbook, and our afternoon of study commenced.

It was halfway through History, with Math and English already put to one side, that things started to go awry. To my pleasant surprise, both Jean and Eren quieted down once I started to go over the lessons, and together we discussed the theories and practices they weren’t so sure of. Eren, however, was the first to lose interest.

He was wrong if he thought I hadn’t noticed how many times he’d checked his cell phone already. The first couple of times I let it slide, even if the look of disappointment on his face twisted my gut painfully.

I closed the textbook I was reading, earning a questioning look from Jean.

“Let’s take a short break, yeah?” I suggested, hoisting myself to my feet. My left leg was numb from sitting on the floor too long, the feeling as blood flowed freely back to my starved veins a mixture of ticklish and severely uncomfortable. I wriggled my toes impatiently in my shoes.

“A break sounds good,” Eren agreed, rubbing at his eyes and stretching. “I’m gonna grab something to drink. You guys want anything?”

“Can you get me a glass of water?” Jean ventured.

Eren nodded, stepping through the mess as he headed for the kitchen, calling to me over his shoulder. “You want anything, Armin?”

“I’ll have a water, too. Thank you.”

Eren left the room, the sound of glasses clinking echoing out of the kitchen.

“Hey, you think he’s alright?” Jean whispered.

I shook my head. “It’s… worse than I thought.”

“No shit. What the hell is up with the guy?”

“Hard to say.”

I couldn’t tell him. As much as I longed to confide in him, it wasn’t my place to reveal Eren’s secrets to Jean. I could be wrong, too. Until Eren confirmed things either way, I only had a hunch to go on.

A few minutes later, Eren returned, three glasses of water in hand.  

Jean cradled his glass in his lap, took a deep breath, and began to talk. “You… you going on the trip, Eren?”

“Yeah. I haven’t really got any other plans. Not anymore.”

“Shadis is arranging the whole thing. I can’t believe you’re opting to spend time with your favorite teacher.”

“I think I’ll miss him.” Eren stared down into the remains of his water, and he reminded me of Jean in that moment, when he stared at the sky. These two men in my life were eerily similar, and yet strikingly different. I adored them both, even when they were butting heads. They’re idiots. My idiots.

If they could get past their differences, I knew they’d make great friends.

Seeing them engage in idle conversation was heartwarming. There was hope.

“I hate to be the boring one,”—I gestured to the textbook—“butt we ought to get back to studying.”

“You know what, I think I’ll leave you guys to it.” Jean leaned forward, reaching to put his glass on the table and getting to his feet.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, surprised by his sudden change.

“I’ll go back to your place. Heat that food up for your pops.”

“Jean…”

“Good luck with your studies. I’ll see myself out. Oh, and, Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Clean the fuck up next time.”

Eren laughed.

Jean did see himself out, leaving me and Eren alone. I hadn’t expected Jean to leave early, though I suspected I knew what his intentions were. I wasted no time in seizing the opportunity.

“Come out with it, then.”

“Out with what?”

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you, Eren. I’m listening.”

He looked away from me, picking up his notes and pretending with all his might to be reading them. “It’s nothing, really.”

“You don’t have to hide it from me anymore. I _know_ , remember? If it’s something to do with that, you can tell me.”

I could see him wavering, fighting within himself. He wanted to come out and say it. He was afraid to.

Even now, he was afraid.

I saw it, deep within the eyes that refused to look at me now. Instead he was looking at anything else in the room he possibly could; his vision flickered from the mass of clothes on the floor to the curtains, and finally out to the setting sun beyond the glass window panes. I followed his gaze, taking in the fiery blaze as the sun bid our corner of the world goodnight.

  
“Tell me.” I prompted, ushering out the silence that settled between us. “I’m your friend. I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

“...I’m… not sure what it is, Armin.”

His eyes found mine. He was looking at me, and my heart skipped a beat, tripping over as I saw the frightened boy hiding within him.

“Go on.”

“It’s… there’s… this guy…”

I already knew how this would end. The evidence was loud and clear; his change in appearance, cologne, the way he smiled sometimes without knowing it. The endless sighs. I’d been there; I knew it all too well.

“I won’t see him for ages. He didn’t reply to my text yesterday, either. He can be a bit moody, I get that. It just feels different, somehow.”

“It’s only been a day, Eren,” I tried to placate his worry. “He’s a customer, isn’t he?”

His cheeks brightened with color, his eyes slipping away from mine and returning to the darkening sky outside. “Y-Yeah.”

“Then he’ll reply to you when he can. Unless there’s something more to it?”

He was squirming, fingers fiddling with the dog-eared corner of a textbook on the floor next to him. I watched his lips move, mumbling something I couldn’t hear.

“Eren.”

“I kind of… maybe… sort of… like him.”

“How does he feel about you?”

My heart was beating fast. Eren liked someone. He was suffering, by the looks of it. I wanted to embrace him, but my arms felt leaden. Our study session had certainly derailed quickly - quicker than I’d anticipated. I was at fault for that, but I didn’t see Eren focusing again without getting it off his chest. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d somehow made it worse. I guess I was nervous about coming here for the wrong reasons. It was easier to talk to him about these things than I thought, but this wasn’t expected at all.

A confession of love, for a customer, was not on my list. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like it could be something, other times… he shuts me out. Whenever I get close, he takes ten steps back.”

The pain in Eren’s voice was a sound I never wanted to hear. He was hurting, and I couldn’t take that from him, no matter what I said. Still, I would try to ease it, however I could.

“He’s not married or anything, is he?”

“He doesn’t wear a ring, and he looks like he lives alone.”

“You’ve been to his house?”

“Yeah, I go there all the time.”

“That’s… isn’t that risky?”

“Hange knows him, or they wouldn’t let me go there. He’s legit.”

“I see.” That wasn’t sitting well with me. “And you say you’re seeing him on the side?”

“Hange doesn’t… know. I was seeing him through them, now privately. I get all the money that way, and he doesn’t pay so much.”

“Eren!”

“He wouldn’t hurt me!”

“I don’t believe you sometimes. You’re far too trusting!” My voice reached a pitch, and I slapped him playfully on the knee. “...Is he hot?”

“Armin!” It was Eren’s turn to squeak, and I must admit, it was satisfying to see him blush. He never expected me to ask things like that. It made asking those questions all the more satisfying.

“Well, he must be. Given all the people you must have seen… No, that’s not a shot at you. I’ve never seen you quite like this before, Eren. He must be special.” I was being earnest, and I wanted him to know that.

After our little talk at the hotel, I’d gone and spent some time thinking. Jean agreed to stay out of it, allowing me to handle the situation by myself. I wished Eren would one day see that he wasn’t as antagonistic as he thought - alas, one step at a time. For the time being, I needed Eren to know I was on his side.

I needed him to know I wasn’t going to turn on him for the things he’d done and continued to do, and that our friendship was secure. I could tell from the way he tiptoed around the topic that he wasn’t all that comfortable yet. I’d surprised myself in how quickly I accepted it. He was my friend, and that was all that mattered in the end.

He was my friend, and he was in love. That was the only issue we had here.

I almost didn’t hear him. “He… he is.”

“...I came to study with you, Eren. We’ve studied. Take a moment and text him - better yet, call him.”

“Yeah.” Finally Eren stopped flicking his fingers over the pages, and looked at me with hope in his eyes. “I’ll do that.”

Settling him into study a second time was easier said than done, but he took to it with a vigor I’d never known. He took notes and asked questions as we went over our books, and I gave him a small test of knowledge to prove it was going in.

When it came to taking a break, I left him on the living room floor and headed for the kitchen under the pretense of refreshment. I wanted to give him some privacy, though I’d be lying if I denied my ears weren’t strained to overhear any snippet of conversation that might transpire.

Nothing.

I refilled our glasses of water, and wondered how Jean was doing. I appreciated what he’d done for us, what he did for me.

Returning to the living room, I was unsure what state Eren would be in. His phone was on the arm of the couch, his head bent over another textbook, his pen tapping idly as he read. Impossible to tell if that was very good, or very bad.

“Is… is everything okay? Did he answer?” I asked, stepping into the room. I placed our drinks down, and settled down next to him on the couch.

“Mhm. Thanks for the advice, Armin.”

“I didn’t give you any,” I protested, struggling to read his mood. When did he become such a mystery to me?

“You told me to call, and I did.”

“He answered?”

“...No.”

Eren visibly sank, his back slouching and shoulders dropping. My heart fell with him.

“Give it time. He could be busy.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is.”

“Right. Let’s do some studying while you wait.”

Eren groaned loudly, pressing his forehead to his book. Patting his back comfortingly, I took up my own notes once more and focused my mind. I found myself chewing the top of my pen, my mind wandering to Eren.

It was unnerving seeing him so… vulnerable.

He was always strong in my eyes, taking on any obstacle without fear or restraint. This was different, and I was having a hard time accepting it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied him checking his phone almost as often as I was checking on him. It was clearly a bad habit of his.

“He’ll be in touch,” I said softly, watching Eren snap his phone back down.

“I was just checking the time.”

I smiled at his defensiveness. “And?”

“And what?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s… uh… I forgot.” He picked his phone up, pressed his thumb to the screen. “Quarter to five”

“Let’s continue for the last fifteen minutes, and stop. I think you could do with it.”

Eren’s face said it all, but I couldn’t give in, and I pushed him on.

By the time the fifteen minutes were up, my mind was just as ready to absorb information on Eren’s infatuation as I was the history of our country.

I couldn’t help my curiosity about the man who had stolen my friend’s heart. He’d done the impossible, something I had long since given up on hoping to have. I didn’t want to admit that a small part of me twinged with jealousy. I had Jean, and that was more than enough, but I wanted to know what was so special about this unknown man.

“What’s his name?” I asked, trying to sound casual as I put my notes down, a silent declaration that study time was officially on hold.

He hesitated. “I...I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“I call him by a title instead. We’re not supposed to use real names -”

“Scout,” I said, the word slipping from me. Eren looked at me, his cheeks reddening. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s… fine. It’s just a weird that you know. That’s all.”

“I told you, you won’t lose me as your friend. Not over something like this. It’s your body, you can use it however you like, and if you’re not hurting anyone else, who am I to tell you you can’t?”

“Well, yeah.” He paused, and I could see the cogs in his mind turning as he struggled to find a counter argument. Coming up blank, he told me something else. He spoke softly, as if he were telling a secret from his heart. “We… almost kissed, once.”

I reached for my glass of water and took a sip, letting his confession sink in. “Is that… off limits generally?”

“Ah, no. It’s not like that. He’s different. We’ve never done anything like that. He talks to me, Armin. He talks to me, cooks me dinner, h-holds my hand.”

“Eren…” He wasn’t looking at me. He was clutching the pen in his hands, twisting it around and around and around. “He’s a customer.”

“I’m in love with him, Armin.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

 

* * *

 

A few years ago Eren Yeager was my world, and though Mikasa was a prominent part of that, there was always something about Eren. Something that stayed with me after school was done for the day and we’d gone to our own homes to eat dinner. The best days for me, back then, were going to his house for dinner. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was probably in love, or on the verge of falling.

I carried those feelings with me, never uttering a word about it to any living soul for a number of years. I hoped one day he’d notice me the same way. He never did. And tonight he said the words I’d always dreaded.

I wasn’t sure how it made me feel.

Coming home, I could smell the remnants of my grandpa’s dinner lingering in the air.

The house was dark, the hour late.

I closed the door quietly behind me, took off my shoes, and crept up the stairs. I was careful to miss the third and sixth step, and placed my foot to the far sides of the seventh step, to avoid the creaks. Without looking, I could tell my grandpa was asleep in his chair. The sound of his worn, old lungs followed me up the staircase. I paused at the top, listening to the unsettled rhythm of his breathing. When I was certain he wasn’t going to stir, I opened the door to my room and stepped inside.

Eren’s confession lingered in my mind.

It felt strange, to know for definite his heart never beat for me. I guess part of me still hoped for it to happen. Then again...

I looked at the man sprawled out and asleep on my bed. It was hard to see in the dark, but I could see enough to smile at the pillow pressed tightly to his chest. His lips were open, undoubtedly releasing a steady flow of saliva. I didn’t care about that.

My room was filled with him. I could smell him, hear him, feel him. When Jean went home tomorrow morning, after breakfast with me and grandpa, when the orange juice was all gone and the succulent aroma of bacon hung in the air like greasy perfume, I wouldn’t be alone. My sheets would keep part of him with me, until he came to visit again.

I didn’t need Eren’s heart to beat for me.

Not when I had this.

Tonight, I learned more than any textbook could teach me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is another chapter down. 
> 
> The next one is titled "The Lonely Island".
> 
> I hope you'll come back to read it! 
> 
> Please give me all of your feedback; your keyboard smashes, all caps lock screaming, whatever. I soak that shit up like an overly enthusiastic sponge.


	39. The Lonely Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. At long last.  
> I hope it wasn't too long a wait for this chapter - for those who follow my blog, you'll know that I moved apartment in that time and have been without internet while things got set up here. Well, the chapter is finally here.
> 
> Special thanks to my editor for all their effort and insight into this chapter. I've really struggled with parts, and I'll probably come back to it at a later date for polishing, but instead of agonising over it further and delaying the publish, I'd like to present it as it is.
> 
> Of course, if it's real bad I'll start again :P
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait...?

I didn’t bother with a tie today. I left the top buttons of my shirt undone, and had spent enough time contemplating shaving that I’d almost been late to work. Being late would gain unwanted attention, the same as not shaving, and I wanted to look halfway decent in case that lumbering old man should barge into my office.

Of course, I already knew he‘d find any excuse to do just that. The two unanswered calls and three unanswered texts on my phone guaranteed his presence at some point today - I just hadn’t expected it before I even made it through the door to the building.

He was there, in the parking lot, arms folded neatly across his chest and a look of concentration etched onto his face. The sight of him sent a wave of nausea through me, the memory of him on the doorstep with _him_ playing on repeat. I could hear the boy’s laugh in my ears, playing on a loudspeaker to drown out any other thought I may have been occupied with.

What a way to start the day. Now I was _really_ pissed.

I got out my car, slamming the door harder than I wanted to. I ignored Erwin’s approach as defiantly as I could, but a guy his size was pretty difficult to ignore.

“Good morning, Levi.” Especially when he stands next to your car.

What a civil way to greet someone. I swallowed the venom that built up in my mouth, and wrapped my lips around the most appropriate return I could muster. Needless to say, it fell short.

“Morning. You here to escort me in?” I looked him dead in the eyes, and as expected, he didn’t even flinch. Erwin wasn’t afraid of my moods. He thought he’d seen them all, thought he knew how best to handle me. This was one storm he hadn’t weathered.

“I haven’t heard from you. I was worried.”

“You know where I live.” I opened the back seat, pulling my laptop bag out and slipping it over my shoulder. “You could have come by.”

“We both know you don’t like housecalls. What’s going on with you, Levi?” His oversized brows were furrowed, knotting together like two ridiculous, handknitted caterpillars. He was imploring, silently pleading, waiting for me to offer some kind of explanation, and I let that expectation hang. I wasn’t interested in explaining myself. _I_ had nothing to explain.

I could almost hear his sigh as he realised stone cold silence was all I was offering. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No. There isn’t. If I wanted to talk about something, I’d say it.” I held eye contact until I passed him, making my way across the lot to the building. I had budding romances to forge and if there was one thing I learned recently, it was that love didn’t wait around. Better get my ass to it.

“Levi-”

“I have work to do.” I didn’t wait for him to reply.

I don’t know if he wanted to follow me, had something else to do, or waited out of courtesy for my bad mood, for me to ride the elevator by myself. I was alone in the small box as I ascended to my designated floor, the solitude interrupted by insignificant faces every few floors. Despite the momentary company, I stayed isolated. I had no pleasantries to offer.

I probably should’ve worked from home. Then again, I couldn’t very well afford to do that for the rest of my life, could I?

Stepping out onto my floor, I wasted no time in escaping to the privacy of my own personal space. I was careful of the door this time, closing it gently behind me and trudging over to my chair, where my body collapsed in a heap. The air rushed out of my lungs, and just like that I felt like a deflating blow up toy. At twenty to eleven in the morning, I was ready to go home. What a load of shit today was.

It took a further twenty minutes of coaxing myself to switch on my laptop, and another ten minutes to actually start my work. There were memos on bright yellow post-it notes to my right. Phone calls to make, emails to reply to. I barely looked at them. Everyone could wait today.

Petra came in with a cup of tea for me about two hours later, when she knew my sour mood had dissipated enough. She sheepishly placed it on the side for me, and I couldn’t help but note the pallour of her complexion as she smiled dimly in my direction.

“You look like shit.”

“I promise I don’t have a cold or anything,” Petra replied, her cheeks flushing with a hint of colour. It was an improvement, if only temporary. “But, thanks. I’m fine.”

I nodded, watching quietly as she excused herself and returned to her desk. She was a hard worker, that one, and was probably overdoing it. I’d have to get her to take some time off somehow before she made herself too sick to work. Easier said than done with her, unfortunately.

By lunch time my foul mood had yet to dissipate. It made me even more pissed that I was letting that little shit get to me - being in the same building as Erwin wasn’t helping either. With that in mind, I decided to take my lunch break somewhere else, hurriedly leaving the office and strolling down the busy streets in search of someplace to spend the next hour.

My meandering took me to a modern style cafe, the kind with metal tables and chairs and oversized umbrellas outside. I never understood the point of metal seating. I walked past it and headed inside, joining the small queue and fixing my eyes on the menu. A variety of light meals and snacks were on offer and I soon found myself placing an order.

I sat down with my bagel and tea a few minutes later, taking a table in the window so I could watch the people outside all rushing about here and there. There were the casuals, the tourists, the suited office workers.

Occasionally the door would open, the bell chiming to herald the arrival of fresh custom. I drowned it all out, munching slowly on my cream cheese bagel. It tasted of nothing, as appetising as cardboard, through to no fault of the chef’s. I was eating during my lunch hour like a normal human being, social etiquette or whatever, dictated now was the time to have food, regardless of whether or not I wanted it. I didn’t want it. I wanted to crawl home and forget everything.

I wanted to forget my responsibilities, to forget the weight in my chest that anchored me to him, to forget his bright eyes and stupid, stupid smile.

I didn’t want my bagel, and I wanted it even less now.

My stomach whirled over the savoury mix, making me question why exactly I’d tried to eat it in the first place. There was something else I was chewing over, something else that made me feel sick

It hurt. Like a dark wave crashing over me, whenever I thought of _him_ I couldn’t breathe. He was choking the air out of my lungs, the back of my throat burning with every strangled intake. My head ached as I fought my way through the fog he left in me. I didn’t want to think about him anymore. Thinking about him lead me down one path and one only, a path that now crossed into territory I never thought it would. At the end of it was a single question, a single route forward that soon forked into even murkier ways forward.

The one that asked the question that made me sick to my stomach. The one I didn’t want to know the answer to, the one I needed to know the answer to.

_How long had they been seeing each other?_

There it was, and _fuck,_ it was damn ugly. Fucking ugly. The kind that you can’t stop looking at, the sort of ugly that is nothing shy of offensive. I was looking right at it, deep into the heart of it, ignoring how it made my stomach flip in revulsion. There was no heart to find. It was empty.

I should’ve aborted that mangled corpse of a question when I had the chance. Cut it off like the head of a root. Smothered it.  

There was no justification for how I was feeling. There was no justification, but I felt justified. Stupidly justified, but justified nonetheless.

I had no right to monopolize Scout. Erwin was surely just another one of his customers, one of many, of hundreds and thousands - and no, I wasn’t any different.

Looking out the window I could see many different people. I wondered how many of these strangers I’d shared Scout with. How many of them had had the pleasure of his smile, his laugh, his warm embrace? I was more forgettable than any of these nameless faces.

_Did Erwin… know his name? How much had they shared? Did he like Erwin more than me?_

I didn’t want my bagel anymore. I’d only taken a single bite, apparently content to chew over my thoughts more than real food. They were enough, the churning in my stomach making me feel full, nourished only by the hurt I felt.

I swore I’d never let anyone do this to me. I thought the walls around me too solid, watched them crumble to dust by the two people in my life that came the closest. But was it really them who kicked my defences down, or was it me?

The outcome remained the same. While they fucked each other behind my back I was out in the cold, isolated on my very own island, population of one. I watched as the only boat to come by, slowly turned and sailed in another direction. I let it go, no smoke signals, no cry for help. It would sail on stormy seas if I had any say in it. It would be far from smooth sailing, I promise that much.

Outside, the peaceful late September weather turned with a sudden shower. The rain poured down, and the people dashed for cover as if surprised it happened at all. From the colour of the sky, it should’ve been obvious. The world turned darker for a time, and I sat, listening to the sound of the rain as it tapped the window.

The storm had come, and believe me, it was only just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it?
> 
> I really hope that it was okay after all this time. 
> 
> I don't know currently when the next chapter will be released, so please be patient for the next one. It won't be as long this time though, that much I can promise.
> 
> As always I look forward to your comments, whatever they may be. If you have any advice on how to improve and whatnot I am most definitely open to listening.
> 
> Otherwise, I'll see you all in the next chapter!


	40. Back To Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you everyone for the continued support. I have incredible readers and I love you all.
> 
> Secondly, I can only apologise now for the slow and irregular updates. Life still has me by the balls and it's slowly squeezing them. Believe me, I can feel it, and it's not pleasant. I hope you'll continue to bear with me as this fic moves forward.
> 
> This story was published November of last year, and it has been a full year of writing to get to this stage. I never would have believed it would get this far. You are all absolutely amazing and I am eternally grateful!

Leaving town for a few days was not entirely what I wanted to do, but I also knew it’d be good for me to get away. With my exams done, all that was left of my dwindling school life was this trip - after this, things would be very different once more. Someone wise once told me that life is a journey. An ever changing road, destination unknown. It was probably Armin that said those things to me. It was time I grabbed my balls and faced what was coming head on.

A lot was going to change in ways I couldn’t fathom, and that was fine. It was the natural progression of life and I was more than ready to embrace it. I wanted to be free of the shackles tying me to childhood. It was my time to shine. God damn if I wasn’t going to be the brightest star in the sky.

This was the kind of motivational bullshit I filled my head with as I finished packing, squishing the last t-shirt in and zipping the bag. I wasn’t bringing much, it was just a small bag, and when that was done I had barely enough time to sling it over my shoulder and throw myself down the stairs before Armin honked the horn.

I dashed outside, smiling brightly and tossing my bag into the back seat carelessly. “Hey! Ready for two days of shits and giggles?”

Armin tilted his head, pulling off from the curbside a moment later. “Hopefully it’s more of one than the other.”

“Don’t eat anything and you’ll avoid one of those things.” I was being helpful. The look Armin shot over my way told a very different story, but it wasn’t my fault if he was reading me wrong. I held up my hands in surrender and proclaimed my innocence. I don’t think he was listening anymore.

“Are you going to be okay for this? It’s three days, with no cell phone reception.”

There was a fact I was trying to ignore. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t fine and neither was I. I was a mess of tangled knots inside, and for every one I managed to iron out, three more took its place.

Three days camping in the middle of fucking nowhere was not currently high on my list of things I wanted to do. That aside, it was three days fucking around with my friends, so it wasn’t all bad, especially considering after this we would all be heading in different directions. I wanted to make the most of it. I really did.

_But._

There was one little snag to my mood. It tasted like sour milk in my mouth whenever I thought about it, and apparently it was showing on my face. My reflection in the side mirror wasn’t pretty. In fact it was scowling back at me, the ridge between my brows deep enough to fall into.

He still hadn’t texted me. I know, it isn’t a good look for me at all to pine for a man like this. One who I wasn’t even in a relationship with. We’ll ignore that part. The important bit is that he _hadn’t texted me_. My phone was in my pocket, as silent and as reticent as the dead. The ridge between my brows deepened.

It was beginning to feel less like courtesy over my exams and more like avoidance. My text from a few days ago was unanswered. It was a light hearted message, one that I crafted carefully to avoid giving too much of how I was actually feeling away. The Corporal wasn’t big on emotion, whereas I had a tendency to flare and burn out quickly. I kept it breezy, something along the lines of, _‘My exams are over! Don’t be shy and get in touch when you wanna see me again!’_.

Apparently he was either too shy or simply didn’t want to see me. I, of course, was opting for the former.

“Eren…” Armin began.

I’d almost forgotten about him being in the car with me. He was quiet until then, but honestly, even if he had been talking all this time I doubt I would have noticed. I shut my thoughts off and braced myself for what was to come. “What’s up, Armin?” Like I had to ask. It was written all over my goddamn face.

“Are you… going to be okay?”

“Of course. What’re you worried about?” I asked, like I didn’t know.

“We’ve been in the car ten minutes and you’ve checked your phone ten times. There’s no reception where we’re going. And judging by that look on your face, you weren’t even aware you were doing it.”

Busted.

I’d failed to notice the periodic glance towards my phone. I presumed it was in my pocket, when in reality it was in my hand. I looked down at it in betrayal, and hastily shoved it into my pocket - for real this time.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, slumping in my seat.

Instead of my phone, I stared out the window at the passing scenery. The site was about half an hour out of town, an easy drive straight down the motorway. Popular amongst families and local schools, it served as an effective get away from the humdrum of the daily city life. For us it was chosen as an end of school treat, a reward for surviving all those years of education. If that wasn’t able to kill us off, then surely something out in the wild would finish us off instead. I guess that’s how it’s intended.

Mr. Shadis - my favourite teacher, naturally - was the event organiser. At some point in his crazy life he’d been deemed qualified for the role, though in all honesty there’s no one I’d rather have with me when squaring off with a bear. Maybe Mikasa, actually, but Shadis was a good enough bet. Without flinching Shadis would give the bear detention, followed by six months worth of homework assignments, and the whole scene would be nothing below his usual ear pounding volume. That ought to be enough to put any other potential predators from coming by.

By the time I’d completed the Shadis vs. Bear fantasy we arrived at the campsite. I could see the others already loitering in the car park, their heads all turning briefly as Armin’s tyres crunched the gravel. Sasha and Connie were entertaining themselves, and a few paces from them was Annie, Reiner and Bert. Ymir was busy helping Krista with her bags. There were a handful of other students whose names I didn’t know. I recognised their faces, but only from passing them in the halls.

“Is this everyone?” I said, climbing out the car.

“Not sure.” Armin paused, scanning the gathering of people with interest. “Jean should also be here.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” I looked over Armin’s shoulder, to the tall figure fast approaching us. He looked almost as glum as me, slinging his backpack down at his feet and holding his arms open wide. I watched as Armin’s face lit up in joy, burying his small frame into Jean’s embrace. The scene sent a familiar ache across my chest.

“Jean.” I said by way of greeting. He inclined his head in return. I let them have their moment, choosing instead to busy myself with the retrieval of our bags.  

“Shadis should be here soon,” Jean was saying, “he’ll be taking us to the campsite.”

“Sounds good.” It didn’t sound good. Seeing Jean was enough to make me want to turn around and walk home. One of these days, I’d ask him what his problem was. A day when we weren’t about to be stranded in the middle of these woods, with no cell phone connection and no witnesses. Don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t fearing for _my_ life. I just don’t think Armin would appreciate his boyfriend going missing.

I heard Shadis arrive before I saw him. He bellowed at us from a distance, causing Connie to lose balance in whatever weird pose he was performing at the time. We were laughing, and I’m pretty sure even Shadis was cracking a smile beneath that hardened exterior.

He briefed us on safety essentials and all the boring stuff that I mostly tuned out, too busy wondering if a bear may actually win against him. I was still deciding on the outcome when we collected our bags, falling into a relative line of sorts behind him as we entered the forest.

Armin strategically put himself between me and Jean, throwing a glance my way to gauge my ever shifting mood.

From the back of the line, Connie and Sasha’s enthusiastic conversation drifted over. I think I heard something about wild boar and dinner, I couldn’t be certain.

“Hey, Sasha. Didn’t you say your family hunt?” I called over my shoulder.

“Yes! My father in particular - he taught me to use a bow.” She said proudly.

“That’s so cool,” Connie interjected, “I’d hit it with rocks.”

“Or your head would work just as well.” Jean mumbled.

I admit that was funny, and my laughter spilled out as Connie failed to accurately hear the comment. I offered my palm for Jean, and he slapped it heartily as Armin shook his head in disapproval. We bonded, I think. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all.

What would become of these people when we parted ways? What they would do when this whole trip was over, what were their plans? I knew Armin was off to university, and I suspected Jean was, too. He was able to apply his intelligence effectively, so getting the grades he needed was more or less easy for him. It was his ego that was the problem.

While these two were going to University, I’d carry on as Hange’s No.1. It seemed like a good plan with decent prospects, especially given that I probably didn’t have the grades required to follow them directly. I could probably still go to a decent university if I wanted, and maybe that’s what I would end up doing in a year or two.

“Where you going to after this, Eren?” Jean asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. The conversation had carried on without me, but somehow my thoughts mirrored it perfectly.

“Oh… uh… I’ll probably just… work, or something.”

“You could still get in,” Jean said. “Or do you think you failed already?”

His comment prickled my nerves. “I haven’t failed! I just don’t want to stay in education. I’m ready to get out there and earn some real money.”

“Not everyone is cut out for studying.” Armin offered, looking between us to ensure neither of us were about to kick off again. “There’s nothing wrong with either of your choices.”

“Tch. He could do better for himself _if_ he tried,” Jean murmured.

“Yeah, well I don’t want to,” I bit back. Three days of this? Yeah, one of us was definitely not coming home. So much for our _bonding_. “Anyway, how’re you going to cope without your mom’s home cooked meals?”

“I’ll be just fine!”

“Will the two of you stop it! This is the last time we’ll all be together. Can’t you set aside your differences? Just for a little while?” Armin stopped, casting stormy eyes at the pair of us.

I instantly felt bad, kicking at the dirt with my foot. The three of us fell quiet, me and Jean trudging alongside Armin like scolded children.

It took me a minute or two until the weight in the air became too heavy. Summoning the balls, I finally apologised for my shitty behaviour.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” He sounded it for once, and my anger slipped further away. He was good to Armin, as I knew for sure his change of heart wasn’t entirely for my benefit. It warmed me to see him treat my friend with a level of respect he rarely showed me. He was making Armin happy, and I couldn’t fault that.

We came to the designated camp site sometime later, the clearing quickly filling with bags and already tired students. It was our own responsibility to set up tents, helpfully provided for us minus any instructions, and with the sun soon to set overhead we hurried to get it done. Sleeping al fresco didn’t appeal to me. The last thing I needed was to return to work with flu. If there was a market out there for guys with runny noses and a sore throat… I didn’t want to find out. Lucky for me, it looked like I wouldn’t have to find out either, my tent erected in record timing. Not entirely through my own efforts, of course.

Initially I begrudged Jean’s assistance, but in an attempt to set aside our differences, I said nothing, putting the pins into the ground and lifting the poles as Armin instructed. The three of us made a good team when we weren’t bickering.

“Thanks, Armin!” I patted his back, grateful for his help. Who needed written instructions when he was around? “And you too, Jean. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me now, Yeager.” Dusting off his hands, Jean went to set up the next tent, and I followed suit. With a silent exchange, we nodded to each other and got to work, stopping only to laugh at the commotion to our side. Connie and Sasha’s efforts were not going so well, and I turned just in time to see Connie vanish beneath his collapsed tent. Sasha was more interested in the mushrooms growing on the forest floor, gathering them up until Shadis confiscated the harvest. It was fun to watch, a momentary distraction from the work at hand.

“Some things never change, I guess.” With a shake of my head I got back to helping out, smiling as Sasha’s indignant wails echoed out, followed by Connie’s annoyed attempts to set their tent up. It was going to be a good couple of days, I thought - ones I would want to remember, as they were going to be the very last with this group of people.

I was really going to miss them.

“Don’t look so sullen. Clouds over the sun is never a good thing.”

“...What?” Brows furrowed, I questioned Armin’s oddly poetic choice of words.

He shrugged.  “You were so happy a few seconds ago. Now, your face is overcast. What are you thinking?”

“Oh… how I was going to miss you. All of you.”

“Hey, that’s enough of that,” Jean interrupted with an irritable scowl on his face, “save it for later, the trip has only just started and you’re getting mopey?”

“Heh. Sorry, Jean.” I offered him a simple smile. “I’ll knock it off.”

“Damn right you will. Let’s get this finished before we end up like those two, eh?” He jutted his chin towards Sasha and Connie, and I didn’t even need to look over my shoulder to know exactly what he meant.

By the time the sun vanished from the sky, everyone was set up for their first night camping. We crowded around the fire,conversation flowing over the crack and pop of the wood as it burned. I loved the scent of it, breathing in deeply and filling my lungs with it. I knew I’d be smelling the smoke for days, if not months, after this, and I didn’t want it any other way. It would be like a memory, one that would slowly fade with every breath I took thereafter.

“Here,” Armin said, passing me his burnt marshmallow with a smile, “I never liked these things anyway.”

With a laugh I took it from him, blowing until it cooled enough to nibble on. “Burning them to ashes is half the fun of it.”

“You’ve been camping before?” Jean asked, leaning forward to direct the question at me.

I nodded. “Mhm. My dad took me and Mikasa a few times when we were little.”

I enjoyed spending the time with my dad, and my sister, too, of course. It felt like - for a few days, at least - we were the only ones in the world. It was us versus nature, and it was as though we walked a thin line between danger and safety whenever we went. Mikasa saved me from death by mushroom more times than I could count. The sense of adventure, of exploration, is what kept me coming back for more. I wonder when I lost that hunger?

I hadn’t thought of it until Jean mentioned it. The memories gathered at the forefront of my mind, released from the cupboard of my mind. I wanted to share them, and that’s exactly what I did. I picked one up and dusted it off with a deep breath.

“There was one time that I almost burned down the entire forest. My dad had fallen asleep in front of the fire, and as it began to fade out I started adding logs to it. Then Mikasa mentioned using some kind of fuel to get it really going.I don’t know what I used in the end, but I do remember watching as the flames got a little out of control.”

“I remember you saying that at school.” Armin said wistfully, his eyes focused on a scene from the past. “I swear you still smelled like smoke for the week after you got back.”

“That’s just like you.” Jean commented. I let it slide. “I bet you got up to all sorts of stupid shit. It’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve always been surrounded by good people, maybe that’s why I’m still here?”

“Mikasa was always too good for you.” Jean muttered.

_She’s too good for you._

I wanted to say it, I really did. A glance to Armin was enough to silence my tongue. It wasn’t worth upsetting him for a cheap shot at Jean. Instead, I decided it was about time I left.

“I’ll catch you guys in the morning. Don’t stay up too late.” I teased. They wished me a goodnight, and I crawled into my tent, zipping the flap up the flap behind me. Inside, it felt oddly secluded, even with their shadows outlined on the walls of the fabric. It was that crinkly fabric, the waterproof kind that rustled along with the bits of branches underneath me. I would feel every single twig poking into my back throughout the night, but for now I was oddly content. My problems were far away, and as I closed my eyes, I felt free of my worries.

 

* * *

 

I woke the next morning with a sore, stiff body and a mouth full of what felt like cotton wool. At first I didn’t know where the fuck I was; I opened my eyes and was greeted with the blue tint of my tent, and slowly the realisation dawned on me. I rubbed my face, and opened my eyes again, hoping to somehow find myself back in the comfort of my room. The tent remained, however, and so did the cold bite of the early morning air.

As much as I wanted to stay in the precious warmth I’d created inside my sleeping bag, my body had other, more pressing ideas. The uncomfortable strain of a full bladder was stopping me from falling back to sleep, and there was nothing for it but to give in and find somewhere to take a piss.

With bleary eyes I poked my head out of my tent, then stumbled in my hastily dressed state across our campsite to what I hoped was a discreet location. Up against a tree I released a warm stream, sighing with relief as the pressure alleviated. That done, I turned to head back to my tent, bumping into Shadis along the way. He was sitting on a log, hands clasped together in front of his face. He looked contemplative, and I felt bad for disturbing his quiet, early morning reflections.

“Oh, sorry, Sir. I didn’t realise anyone else was up,” I said, rubbing nervously at the back of my neck.

Shadis looked up at the sound of my voice and said, “Good morning, Yeager. Sit with me awhile.”

“Uhm, sure.” Okay, like this wasn’t awkward.

I perched my ass on the far end of the log, feeling like the most cumbersome bird in all of existence. A turkey, or something similar. I waited for Shadis to say a few words, to shed some wisdom for the future days ahead, but he said nothing. The grand total of fuck all.

“So, uh…”

“Eren Yeager. You’re a bright kid, you know that?”

“Thanks.”

“But you’re too stupid to utilise it.”

Spoke too soon. “I can’t really argue with that.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Those sunken, creepy-as-fuck eyes were on me, and I did everything I could not to get sucked in by them. I stared intensely at the collection of leaves on the floor, at the worm that wriggled its way triumphantly across them. You go, worm. “If you continue on like this, you’re going to find you’ve coasted through life achieving _nothing_. You have to find something to fight for, something to cling on to, that isn’t just going to drag your sorry ass along behind it. Do you hear what I am saying through that thick skull of yours?”

I nodded. It was too early in the morning for this. I preferred it when it was an awkward silence, now my head was thrumming with the realisation I was getting the proverbial kick up my ass. I glanced at Shadis’ feet, at the heavy boots he wore, and realised it was going to be very painful indeed.

“Make sure you do. You won’t get this time in your life again. This, right now, is the easiest your life is ever going to be.”

“Trust me, sir. I already know that much. And it’s not been easy so far as it is.”

“Yeah, I respect that.” He patted me on the shoulder. He smiled a knowing yet sad smile. “Don’t let it go to waste, is all I’m saying. Don’t… give up. That’s all.”

I got to my feet, sensing that was all he was going to say. I dusted my ass off and started to walk away.

I respected what Shadis was telling me. It was the message everyone was always telling me. Even I was telling myself the same shit. Coming from Shadis, however, left me feeling rattled. I was disturbed by the quietness of his approach, opposed to his usual bellowing. My ears weren’t ringing, my blood didn’t vibrate with every booming word, my eyeballs didn’t shake in their sockets.  

This man had been my tutor for a long time. I’d spent hours in his company, half-heartedly absorbing his lessons. Perhaps he’d just taught me the greatest lesson of all. I realised as I stood a few paces from his back, watching him quietly go about his business, that I was going to miss this man. My mornings weren’t going to be the same without him. I could call up Armin, I could text Jean if I really wanted to, I could see them again. Shadis was a man who would never have a purpose in my life after this trip. “Thanks, for all that you’ve done.” I whispered.

I crawled back into my (now cold) sleeping bag.

The next time I woke up, it was to Armin’s voice. It was time to go fishing.

 

Sitting around the campfire, our bellies full with the fish we’d caught, we exchanged ghostly stories across the fire. Our day was spent hiking through the woods, fishing, and making fools of ourselves in the river. I was honestly surprised I could still stomach the fish, knowing full well just a few hours ago I’d been completely naked and splashing icy water at Jean. The same icy water that our dinner was swimming in. Moving swiftly on.

Reiner was telling a story. It was a ghost story, one of several told this evening. The fire flickered shadows across his face, enhancing the terror of his words. Sasha and Connie were huddled together, hanging on every word like a pair of frightened children, apparently taken in hook, line and sinker. It would  be all to easy to frighten the shit out of them with a well placed hand on the shoulder. Annie looked her usual disinterested self. Bert looked unnerved. I wasn’t paying all too much attention. I didn’t really like ghost stories.

It was coming up to the climax of Reiner’s story when I felt the vibration from my pants pocket. Confused, I reached in and eased my phone out. Surely, there was no way-

“I have signal!” I stared in disbelief at the bar of precious signal on my phone. There was no mistaking it, nor the three text message alerts that greeted me.

“Hey, Eren!” Reiner said, folding his arms across his chest. “Do you mind?”

“Sorry, Reiner. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said guiltily. I didn’t mean to, but I had _signal_.

Glorious, rare signal. I was deprived of attention from the outside world, and the sight of three text messages was making me giddy. Not one, not two, but an entire three messages waited for me. I couldn’t scramble to open them quickly enough.

My thumb trembled as I stared down at the screen, where surely enough a text waited for me from the Corporal. I was struck by lightning, right down the centre of me. I could hear the crackle of electricity, could feel the raw power of its energy shooting into me.

All my reflections on the past, and my future, made sense to me. I knew where I was heading at last. I knew where to go, and what I was going to do.

I was going to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'll be seeing you again before Christmas. I hope so. Remember, you can keep updated by tuning into [](https://captain-cleanliness.tumblr.com/) or if you just miss me in general.
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas (if you're celebrating it! If not, I hope December is good to you in general) and I'll see you guys in the New Year!
> 
> As always, please leave me your thoughts as they help me to improve going forward. Thank you.


	41. Liquid Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've come back to this, I thank you very humbly! I know it's been a very, very, very, very... very long wait and I am sorry. Remember I do have updates for the progress on my blog, so you're welcome to follow me if you want to keep informed in between chapters.
> 
> A Recap:  
> Eren has finished school and is on a camping trip with his classmates. He has a text from Levi, inviting him over, after a long time of not seeing him.
> 
> Levi has seen Eren with Erwin, and was incredibly disturbed to find they knew each other. 
> 
> Neither Eren or Erwin are aware of Levi's discovery.

I scrubbed at an imaginary stain on the kitchen counter, my sleeves rolled around my elbows as I put all my might into removing it. The scent of bleach wafted up my nose with a satisfying sting, and I knew I should open the window, but it was cold out and I didn’t want to. I liked the hygienic feeling that came with the smell of bleach. It made me feel calmer. 

I wasn’t calm though. 

Much the opposite, and wiping my forehead with my arm for a moment, I noticed I’d worked up quite the sweat from my incessant scrubbing. I wasn’t finished yet. There was still so much left to do. I knew it was already impossibly clean, but it wasn’t enough to stop the twitch in my fingers. It wasn’t enough to stop me spending an extra minute on the stain that wasn’t there. I’d already gone over the light fittings twice, vacuumed and polished the floors, wiped down the faucets and every tile in the bathroom now gleamed. 

Except that one, the one with the stain I couldn’t get out. 

“You shit stain,” I muttered through clenched teeth, “why can’t you just leave me alone?”

The intercom buzzed.

That stain wasn't the only thing bothering me this night.

The buzz rang through my muscles like an electric bolt and, as quick as that I had launched the cloth across the room in temper. It made a revolting slapping sound as it collided with the wall opposite and then to the floor. I glared at it, impressed to find it didn’t burst into flames.

I checked my watch. He was on time. Naturally. He wouldn’t be late, not even when I wanted him to be.

“God damn it.” I approached the door, cutting off the impatient bastard downstairs as he jammed his thumb over the button a second time. I didn’t bother to speak into it. I pressed to let him in and I waited with bated breath. I  imagined vividly each step he took toward my door, like a bug crawling over my body, poisonous stinger aimed ready at my heart. Into the elevator. Out onto my floor. Outside my door. He was coming.

I checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror. I was a fucking mess, and running my hands through my hair wasn’t enough to sort out the mess I was in.

Two confident knocks on the front door launched my heart into my mouth. I left the bathroom, ignoring the sight of my own face as the color swiftly drained from it. I opened the door.

“Levi. It’s good to see you.” Erwin greeted me, a smile breaking across his lips and wrinkling his eyes. I wish I could say the same in return. He was standing in front of me, the physical manifestation of the demon in my mind ever since that night. I was feeling everything and nothing at once, and it was confusing the fuck out of me.

“You found it alright, I see.” I stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. This was the only way I was going to get over this. I had to deal with it directly, starting with Erwin.

“It wasn’t hard to find with your directions.” Erwin took the sight of me in, and returned a sheepish look. “Am I… disturbing you?”

I tried not to glance down at my dishevelled self, as if I didn’t know what he referred to. 

“I invited you here, didn’t I?”

“It looks like I’m interrupting-”

“Just close the damn door behind you.” I stalked off towards the kitchen, leaving him at the threshold. He could turn and walk away if he wanted, and I was partly hoping he would take that option. He didn’t.

Erwin did as he was told instead. “You had this place long?” He asked, closing the door softly, his head turning as he looked around.

“Awhile.” I answered, cursing under my breath as I noticed the bottle of whiskey I was after was in the back of the cupboard. 

“It’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s very  _ you _ .” Erwin carried on, sounding closer, and then, “Did you want some help there?”

He didn’t let me answer. He was there, reaching over my head to secure the bottle, his hulking frame momentarily trapping me to the kitchen counter. I clenched my teeth until he stepped back, slapping a mask over my face when it was safe to turn around.

“Whiskey.” I said flatly, busying myself with fetching some glasses - a task I could manage entirely myself, thankfully.

“That sounds delightful.” Erwin took a seat at the kitchen island. He looked uncomfortable on the stool, like an adult trying to sit on a child’s chair, perched awkwardly, hunching over as he rested his hands on the countertop. I placed a glass in front of him, and poured for him. “Is that bleach I can smell? Levi, you were cleaning, weren’t you?”

I tried not to look too irritated. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.” He looked perplexed. “I can come back later, once you’ve finished.”

“I said it’s fine. I didn’t realize the time, that’s all, so stop making such a fuss.”

“Alright. I’ll change the subject, shall I? I wanted to thank you for inviting me over. I was concerned things were going very downhill between us.” He raised his glass, and clinked the edge to mine. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. You’re right though, we need to talk. There are some things we need to sort out.”

“And you chose here because…?”

“You’ll find out a little later. Drink up, I’m going to take a shower to freshen up. Don’t go wandering off. I won’t be long.” 

Erwin sipped at his whiskey, his brows lifting slightly as I announced my intention. “I’ll wait for you here.”

I left him with a stern look and a silent warning, and headed down the hall to my bedroom. I selected some casual items and carried them to the bathroom, setting them down on the countertop. I locked the door behind me.

Only a short hour or two ago I was in here, on my hands and knees, cloth in hand. I worked until I could see my face reflected on every surface. It wasn’t unusual behavior for me - I did it everytime that  _ Scout _ was due to come over. He never cleaned it properly anyway. I’d worked a little harder at it today, and I could already feel the strain on my body.

My clothes felt heavy with dirt as I peeled them off of me, rolling my socks off my toes and hastily unbuttoning my shirt, tossing them aside with a disgusted curl to my lips. Naked in the cool air of my bathroom, I was already feeling refreshed. Refreshed, and irritated. 

I didn’t want him in my apartment. I’d invited him to spend the evening with me, yes, but I didn’t want him to be here. His presence meant dealing with something I wasn’t ready to face. No time like the present, I suppose. It just so happened to be a very shitty present.

The shower was piping hot, scalding my skin as I stood underneath it, tilting my head back and letting it rush over me, hard and cleansing. I sighed in remote bliss as the droplets pounded my back, hammering the filth from my skin. 

It wasn’t able to cleanse the shit from my head. 

That remained, leaning into me and poking at the soft, sensitive parts I preferred to ignore. Fuck it. 

I got out of the shower, meticulously dried myself, and changed. Grey slacks and a tight fitting white t-shirt. I wasn’t in the mood to dress up particularly nicely. 

By the time I returned to the kitchen, Erwin was pouring himself another glass of whiskey. Good, I thought, it would help him loosen up a bit.

“Welcome back.” Erwin smiled. His cheeks weren’t tinted with alcohol, but I could smell it clearly over the bleach. “Was it a good shower?”

“It did what it was supposed to do.” 

“That’s good then. You have great taste in whiskey, by the way. I’m very much enjoying this one.”

“Thanks. Let’s get on to the topic of tonight now that I’ve freshened up, yes? Good.” I sat down opposite him, declining his offer to pour me a drink. I needed to keep a clear head if I was going to get through the next hour or two. “You’ve known me since we were teenagers, Erwin. You know there are certain aspects to  _ normal life _ I struggle with.” I watched Erwin straighten himself in his chair, his fingers twisting the glass in his hand slowly as I spoke. “I want to fix that. Tonight, I’m trying something new, in the hopes it will sort a few things out.” That wasn’t entirely a truth, and it wasn’t entirely a lie, either. It was somewhere uncomfortably in the middle. I was doing what was needed to resolve the conflict within me and that’s as far as I was looking into it.

“I see. If that’s the case, then I am, of course, more than happy to assist you. You know I’ve only ever wanted to make you happy, Levi.” 

My gut twisted at his sincereness, at how he could look at me with his big blue eyes and not let me see a trace of the betrayal I felt inside. I found no dishonesty in his gaze, and I looked hard for it, believe me. 

He continued, “Whatever you need from me, you should know I’d gladly do it.”

“I’m going to put your dedication to the test-” I was interrupted by the buzzer sounding for a second time this evening. Erwin looked the right level of confused as I slowly stood up and headed for the door.

“Pour another glass of whiskey. You’re going to need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you'll leave a comment to let me know your thoughts.
> 
> I'll see you soon...?


	42. The Man In The Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update!?
> 
> Whilst I'm sure ya'll have stuff to do on Valentines Day, I thought I'd upload today for those of us who have nothing much else to do. Yes, I've been saving the update for a special release today.
> 
> Previously, on DFDF:
> 
> Levi, having accidentally spied an intimate moment between Eren and Erwin, has been thrown into torment over his mixed feelings. Doing what he does best, he withdraws from the source of his distress to re-evaluate the situation. Reaching a conclusion, he takes action. He invites Erwin to his abode for a glass of whisky.
> 
> Meanwhile, Eren was carted off to the nearby woods with his soon to be old classmates for an end of education camping trip. After some sound and unexpected advice from Shadis, he receives a text from Levi indicating they'll meet up soon.

 

“I’ll miss you.” I wrapped my arms tightly around Armin, wondering when he got to be so buff. I could feel the muscle building in his upper body, something he never particularly had before. Armin had motivation and determination in drives, though. I remembered the lessons, how he held himself together despite the obvious struggle compared to the rest of us.

Soon, just like that, this moment would become a memory, too. I squeezed him firmly, until I heard him choke for air.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to keep occupied with.” He was smiling as he said it, his cheeks flushed as he breathed in the air I denied him of.

I nudged him playfully with my arm. “I have no doubt you’re gonna be occupied, too.” I gestured to Jean, who looked impatient now that he’d moved into the front seat of Armin’s car. He was forced to sit like a sulking child in the back, as I was the one being dropped off first. I took a moderate amount of satisfaction in that fact.

Our camping trip was over, and with it, our time in education. My education, that is, was now over. The feeling hadn’t really sunk in yet; part of me was convinced that come tomorrow morning I’d be getting up for school, exams still looming, and waking up to Shadis’ waking me with a shower of spittle as I dozed in his class.

I was finally free to do whatever with my life, whatever I pleased.

Limitless possibilities were laid out in front of me, and like a kid in a candy store I could just pick whichever one I wanted. I knew exactly which candy I was going to pick. My sense of direction was back, my purpose. Yeah, it was a little strange. It always had been and I was happy with that.

“You could still come with us.”

Armin’s offer was sincere. As tempting as it was, I couldn’t help feeling guilty.

“Thanks, but one trip away with that guy was more than enough for me. You two have fun.”

With one last hug, we parted.

As Armin reversed, I could see Jean’s lips move as he said something, his hand raised in a brief wave back to me. They were off to spend a few days alone by the seaside. They didn’t need me to intrude on that.

I stayed waving until they were out of sight, and then carried my bag into the house. It didn’t make it much further than the front door, my shoes slipped off and discarded alongside it. I’d sort the washing out later. Maybe. When I was out of clean clothes to wear. Which wasn’t right at this moment.

Right now there was only one thing on my mind.

The last few days felt stretched into weeks, agonizing weeks, and I had a buildup of excess... _energy_ to dispose of. I couldn’t imagine the Corporal appreciating me turning up with a tent once my camping trip was over, if you catch my drift.

His text had been brief, to the point and blunt as usual. It made me smile, to know he’d been missing me after all. He didn’t say it outright, but he didn’t need to. The promise of our meeting soon was enough to tell me without the exact words that he missed me. It was all the confirmation I needed, the warmth spreading through me enough to keep the chill of the night away. The giddy heat settling over me now was stronger than I’d known it to be in sometime, my feet dashing up the stairs to carry me eagerly into my bedroom.

My fingers were clumsy as they unbuckled my belt, my jeans falling to my ankles with a _swoosh_. I kicked them off, tossing my shirt in the same direction.

Jerking off never felt like such a luxury before.

I bounced onto the mattress and shuffled the covers down, out of my way. Lifting my hips, I hooked my underwear off, and flung it over the side of the bed. I wriggled my toes, somehow still in my socks, and contemplated tonight’s menu.

I could use a toy. Something thick, hard and filling to fuck my hole with was a particularly tempting option. I could feel my arousal grow at the thought, the ache in my cock almost painful, and reached across to the bedside drawer. I rummaged around, securing the bottle of lube I was looking for.

I was half-hard as I drizzled the cold liquid over myself, shuddering and sucking my bottom lip between my teeth as it oozed down my length. As much as I wanted to fuck myself, it would have to wait. I wanted a quick and dirty release and something told me it wouldn’t be difficult to achieve.

I spread the lube over my cock with my palm, curling my fingers around myself as I grew to a state of full arousal. My breath came in a shudder as I stroked up and down, squeezing my tip teasingly. It was enough to make me whimper, my lips pushing together to suppress the sound. Even alone, it was still a little embarrassing to make a sound. A little embarrassing, and somehow a turn-on.

My eyes slowly closed, the sensations travelling along my body taking me far from reality. By the time I was in a steady rhythm, the Corporal was filling my mind.  He was my go-to jerk-off fantasy, and this time I was having him right where I wanted him.

Face down, ass-up on his bed, the blush on his cheeks from the playful swats I had delivered to his muscled backside. I could almost feel the firmness of his ass as my palm came down upon it, recreating the clench of his body on my dick with my hand, making the fantasy more real. The thought of sliding my hard cock between his reddened cheeks was really working for me. I focused almost entirely on the image of sliding into him, of how he’d feel tight and warm on my dick, the gasp he’d make.

I’d push all the way into him, real slow, until my hips cupped his ass cheeks. Then I’d slam him, impossibly hard, until he was reaching for the headboard and breathlessly muttering my name. In the last few seconds, I’d pull out and paint his back with my come.

Properly make a mess of him.

And myself, in the process.

Over the imagined grunts of the Corporal, I could hear the lewd sound of my hand working my dick.

_Fuck. Fuck. Like that, just like that...Ah-!_

The image of the Corporal was burned into my vision even as everything else blurred beyond obscurity - I was coming, and coming _hard_. My entire body gave over to it as if possessed, hips lifting clear off the mattress as the first spasms claimed me. It was hot and messy, splattering up my abdomen to my chest, covering me completely as I succumbed.

My teeth bit into the side of my hand like an apple, muffling the throaty moan I couldn’t hold back.

Gradually, I came back down, collapsing lifelessly onto my sweaty bed sheets.

Opening my eyes, I looked down at myself. It was a thick load, sticking to and webbing between my fingers as I toyed with it curiously. I don’t think I’d seen it quite like that since the first time I jacked off.

As much as I wanted to fall asleep and bask in the glory of post-orgasm bliss, I didn’t want to be scrubbing crusty jizz off my skin in a few hours time. Reluctantly, I heaved my weary body from the bed. Damn, my legs were wobbly.

In all my naked glory, I headed to the bathroom to clean up. It was something I missed being able to do while Mikasa was around (that was a state she didn’t need to see her brother in). I took advantage of the fact now, flaunting the freedom I felt as I strolled into the bathroom and turned the light on. I smiled lazily at myself in the mirror.

What a satisfying way to spend a life.

 

* * *

 

 

The following day I spent laying on my bed, remnants of the cheesy puffs I’d been munching on wiped over my t-shirt. Orange trails dragged across my chest like I’d been attacked by a cheese monster. I was being a total slob, dressed in only boxer briefs and this now very dirty t-shirt. It was late afternoon and I hadn’t even showered. I wasn’t intending to, either. Browsing the net on my phone, I caught up on all the drama and memes I’d missed while away. Surprising how much could happen in three days on the internet.

What I didn’t expect was my phone to start ringing,  and Hange’s bright features staring unseeingly back at me from my screen. Startled, I dropped it with a dull thud on my chest and winced as the achy pain added salt to the wound of my own stupidity.

“Hello, Hange,” I said, trying to hide my alarm as I answered. “What’s up?”

“Eren! My favorite! I have a very special appointment for you,” they drawled, carrying out the last syllable well beyond normal capacity. It did nothing to inspire me.

“Oh, yeah?” I dusted my chest off, managing to smear the claw-like marks rather than erase them completely.

“Uh-huh. A certain customer wants to see you.”

“That’s cool.”

“I think you’ll want to see him, too. It’s been a little while.”

Their excitement wasn’t rubbing off on me. “Just text me the details and I’ll go. Is it tonight?” I asked, low-key praying it wasn’t. I would rather spend my evening lounging around. I had no such luck, of course.

“Yup! No. 57 will see you at nine, don’t be late!” They hung up.

No rest for the wicked.

I stared at my phone as Hange’s face greyed out and disappeared. I should be used to their slightly off-the-wall nature by now, but I wasn’t. I don’t think anyone just _got used_ to them. Still, I shrugged it off and waited for the details to come through, unable to shake the feeling I was supposed to know... something. Whatever it was, I didn’t remember. Instead of giving myself a headache over it, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and shuffled towards the bathroom, scratching an itch under my shirt as I went. I caught my wide yawn reflected in the mirror, and smiled dumbly at myself. I looked a total mess.

With the shower warming up I quickly brushed my teeth, tapping my phone when Hange’s text lit it up. The details were in. I looked them over with vague interest, wondering where I’d be and what I’d  be doing.

 

 

> _**Hange  
>  **  
>  Make sure you’re extra clean - shoulders, knees and toes! No heavily scented products, or colognes. Simple clothes - anything, just make sure it’s clean. You’ll need to bring the usuals. _
> 
>  

Extra clean? No scented products? Simple outfit? That all added up to mean one thing, and one thing only.

My hand was shaking to the extent my manual toothbrush was now a vibrating one - no need for batteries here.

“Corporal,” I gasped, my voice echoing off the tiles. It felt like an eternity since I last saw him. He said he wanted to see me and was making good on the promise that he would be in touch. Unexpectedly,  he’d gone through Hange, which was a little peculiar, but who the fuck cares!? An evening with him. Now that truly is the best way to spend time!

Turning the heat up on the shower, I stepped in and doused myself thoroughly, running my hands through my hair until it felt thick with water. The thrill of seeing him bubbled away in my belly, a goofy smile playing on my lips whenever I let myself think of him properly. I felt like an idiot, standing naked and alone in my shower, my head crowned with a lather of foam and smiling like a jester. I was both a king and a fool at once.

 

* * *

 

 

My first-day nerves took root in my stomach, winding upwards to constricting my lungs. Every breath was labored, and I could tell from the dizziness in my head I wasn’t breathing enough as is. My arm was wooden as I pressed the buzzer, my legs two concrete pillars as I made my way into the building.

I missed this hallway. I missed the faint fragrance of perfumes mixed together, the way it tickled my nose and left a lingering tingle there. I missed the elevator, the mirrored walls and the way I could see myself reflected from head to toe and not a single smudge or fingerprint in sight. I checked myself out, turning to the left and right and scrutinizing my outfit to the last detail. I wanted to look stunning, to remind the Corporal of what he’d been missing out on. To that end, I’d chosen dark colored jeans that hugged the curves of my ass. I teamed it up with a black t-shirt, and a comfortable jacket over the top. Condoms in my back left pocket and a sachet of lube in the right, as always. I doubted they would come in handy, but it always paid to be prepared.

I patted my pockets, checking everything was as it should be, and stepped out of the elevator.

What was he doing, I wondered, as he waited for me to arrive? Did he patrol his apartment nervously, checking his hair in the mirror and smoothing his clothes as I did? I doubted it. I bet he looked really cute with his hair mussed up…

Ah, that was a bad line of thought to go down.

Two deep breaths. Three.

I was outside his door, my hand raised and unsteady as I knocked.

The wait for him to answer was brief in reality, but in my mind it stretched on for minutes. I heard his footsteps, muffled through the door. The click of the mechanism sent my heart into my throat.

“H-Hi,” I choked out, wincing as my voice cracked.

“Come in.” The Corporal glanced me up and down, his expression unreadable.

“It’s good to see you.” I said, closing the door behind me. _I missed you._

I couldn’t help myself from looking around. Something was different in the living room, though I couldn’t decipher what exactly was missing. I carried on looking about, gaze drifting to the kitchen and the two glasses on the island countertop.

One was empty, the other half filled with an amber liquid. Was he going to offer me a drink? I’d have to decline, of course.

“Did you bring condoms?”

His question threw me off, my jaw unhinging and taking my comprehension with it as I snapped my attention back to him. “I-I’m sorry?”

“That’s odd. I would’ve thought you’d be somewhat familiar with them.” His unnerving stare was just that. Unnerving.

I blushed as I answered him, feeling every bit a virgin reborn. “Yeah, I have some?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that.”

“I do, I have some.” I reached to my back pocket and felt the foil. I was tempted to give myself a pinch, to make sure this conversation was actually happening. I didn’t like the idea of pinching my own ass, however.

“Good. Go into the bathroom, freshen up or whatever you need to do, then come into the spare room.”

“Yes, sir.”

I did as I was told, my legs trembling as I stumbled towards the bathroom. My reflection was pale, ghostly, as I bent over the sink and splashed my face with water. I patted my cheeks in a feeble attempt to encourage the color back into them, feeling like an old TV set losing signal. My brain was full of static, growing louder as I turned the faucet off and dabbed at my face with a towel. It sounded like muffled voices flickering in and out. A little disturbed, I tried instead to turn off completely.  

This was happening. I couldn’t move, paralyzed with a fear I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. No more fumbled imaginings. No sleepovers. I was about to get a taste of the real deal, make no mistake on that. His intention was clear and it scared me shitless.

Unrooting myself from the tiled floor, I walked slowly to the guest room, conscious of every pore on my body. I couldn’t sweat too much or I’d smell bad. Did I wash properly in all areas? What if I’d gotten some tissue lodged in my ass? Damn, I should have checked when I had the chance. It was too late now, all I could do was hope for the best.

“Get in here already.” The Corporal answered my knock, and I opened the door sheepishly. My uniform, would it be waiting for me on the edge of the bed? Would he make me change before taking me out of it all? Or, perhaps, would I be the one to remove his clothes? Would it be better if I topped, given my experience, or for him to do it?

Why was having sex so fucking complicated all of a sudden? I could do this.

My uniform wasn’t on the bed. It was nowhere in sight, and what was in its place was much, much worse.  “Um…uh…”

“Stop stuttering and shut the door already,” the Corporal barked. He had moved the chair from the living room into here, setting it opposite the bed and claiming it. That’s what had been missing, I realised. The glasses in the kitchen? They weren’t for me at all.

I gestured dumbly, fumbling my words as I clambered towards some comprehension of what I’d walked in to.  “Hange never mentioned…” I trailed off, unsure how to say it.

I didn’t want to finish that sentence anyway. My heart beat wildly, drumming a beat that sung of nothing but danger. I had the sensation of sinking into the ground, but without the luxury of it actually happening. This was bad - _really_ fucking bad.

“That’s because they don’t know about this. Don’t worry, I will pay you a great deal more for it.”

“I-” _I don’t want to do this_.

“ _Scout_ , meet Erwin. Erwin, this is Scout.” The Corporal motioned towards Erwin, who I knew all too well at this point. He shot me a thin smile, and a pointed look in his eyes.

For a hulk of a man he sure looked like he was trying to shrink himself to nothingness, the same as me.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Erwin greeted me stiffly, and I could see the hidden message in his eyes as clearly as a cloudless sky. “I understand you’ve been helping my friend with some personal issues. I would have liked to thank you for your help under better circumstances, but we must make do with this unfavorable introduction.”

“It’s… fine. It’s nice to meet you too, I think. What’s… happening here?”

“I’m glad you asked. I’ve invited you here tonight to help me finalize my treatment plan. You’re going to let Erwin here fuck you.” I winced at the harshness of the word. “Or fuck him. I don’t care which way you do it. If you agree, that is.”

My eyes shot to Erwin, a sickening twist in my gut.

These two knew each other. I wasn’t sure how. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how.

“I’ll make myself comfortable.” The Corporal moved to the chair, his usual graceful movements juddery, as if his joints had all rusted. I could do nothing but stand there, watching dumbly as he assumed position, presumably to watch me and Erwin.

This was completely not what I expected. What the everloving fuck had Hange thrown me into? Did they know about this? I found that hard to believe, yet the thought still remained.

“I don’t usually take on more than one at a time.” I took a step forward, towards the bed, towards Erwin, all the while my head told me I should have taken a step in the other direction.

“I’ll pay you accordingly.” The Corporal’s voice made every muscle in my body tense. It was like the first time we met, and I could feel the distance between us opening up like a chasm. How did he get so far from me so soon?

His sending me home that night - had I read the signals that badly? Was what I felt purely one-sided? It must have been. I looked to Erwin for secret answers, and found a worry deep in his usually tranquil eyes. I could tell he was trying to hide it, and that only heightened my own sense of impending doom. If only I knew what was really going on here, what their connection was.

Not wanting to make things worse, I did as I was told, taking a place on the bed at a polite distance from Erwin. I’d never felt so small and so alarmingly huge at the same time. It was an inescapable feeling, of being trapped, like an animal in a cage. My captor was there, watching me closely through the bars - and we hadn’t even started yet.

“Whenever you’re ready.” The Corporal, head resting on the back of his hand, watched us with a hawkish intensity.

Fuck. How was I meant to do this?

With anyone else it would be fine. No one else mattered. Being faced with these two was completely different, all the rules to the game altered and I wasn’t included in the update. It was awkward and clumsy, neither of us knew how to begin despite having done this very act many times before now.

 _Pull it together_ , I berated myself. Treat them both like they were no one. I told myself this, yet it did nothing for me. Knowing he was there, watching, put me off. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I wanted him to think of me differently, as something more. It hurt my sense of pride and it hurt my heart in equal measure to play the whore for him, that he requested me for this.

“Let’s do it,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone in the room, and hooked my hand around Erwin’s neck. With a shuffle of bodies, my back pressed to the mattress with Erwin towering over me.

I was familiar with this. I’d been here before. It never felt like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now, everyone. I will update again next month (I am sorry the updates are now sparse. I'm working upwards of 35hrs a week with a fairly long trek before and after each shift. Believe me, I wish I could dedicate more time to this).
> 
> Special thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting thus far. Your support has kept my faith in this fic strong; all your comments I have reread over and again to remind myself I am doing the best I can, for all of you.
> 
> I will see this through to the end and it would mean so much to me for you to be there, too.
> 
> I'll see you all soon!


	43. Recollection of Innocence Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for coming back to this!
> 
> As always, I apologise for the lack of updates. My life has just been... a mess. And unfortunately, fun things like writing took a back burner. I'm trying my best though!!
> 
> Finally, an absolutely massive thank you to everyone who commented on the previous chapter. I had some comments come in the last week or so and they really helped me to push this to a finish. Thank you for motivating me!
> 
> Previously on Die Fucked Up Hard:
> 
> Levi called Erwin and Eren to his apartment as some form of confrontation. Eren is shocked by Erwin's presence, and senses something deeply amiss. His suspicions are confirmed when Levi insists he sleep with Erwin, right there. Feeling forced by his contract and betrayed by Levi's intentions, Eren reluctantly does as he is told.

Like a grain of dirt lodged under my fingernail, he weighed on my consciousness. I could scrub and scrub at my hands and know he’d never come out. That irritated me in the beginning. Now, his festering presence was making me sick. The only way out of this was to cut my finger off and be rid of him forever.

Unspoken words, vile and poisonous, clogged my throat. One by one they piled up, bitter to the point I knew staying here would see me spit them out until I could breathe again. Even so, my legs wouldn’t move. They held me captive, forcing me to watch as the scene of my own composition played out in front of me. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew there was a twisted purpose to this. It didn’t matter to me anymore. All meaning had been lost the second Erwin’s hands escaped down Scout’s torso.

I didn’t stay to see where it ended up. The conclusion was foregone.

Launching from my chair, I prayed my legs wouldn’t give out before I made it out of here. I didn’t care where they took me, so long as it was out of this damned apartment. I wanted to disappear without a word, leaving them to fulfil their carnal pleasures alone, uninhibited. I didn’t stop to look back, any hope they’d stop the madness I’d made crushed. _Let them have each other_ , I thought. I wasn’t going to fight over a commodity.

I grabbed my keys and left the apartment, letting the door slam behind me. I couldn’t work out what I wanted as I stumbled towards the elevator, tripping over my own feet in my haste to escape. Part of me longed to see a mop of brown hair and bright eyes appear in front of me. The other part wanted nothing more to do with any of this.

My hand trembled as I pressed the elevator button. A few seconds and the doors opened with a sickeningly chirpy tone. Stepping inside, I turned at last to look back down the hallway.

I often wondered how it would feel to have my heart broken. Films, books, TV shows, it was everywhere. The common theme that connects us all, that until now I’d merely been an observer of. Was this it? The pressure on my chest echoed in the furthest corners of my body, mirrored in my mind as a clamor of thoughts I couldn’t decipher. I hadn’t realized that the part of me wanting to see him was the honest part. Only in his absence did I come to realize it.

The doors closed. The last of my hope was crushed between the sliding panels, the pitiful hurt written all over my reflection. I didn’t know I could make such an awful face.

With more force than necessary I punched the button for the ground floor parking lot.

Heads turned at the screeching of tires, my exit from the parking lot less than discreet. I didn’t care. They could watch and stare from a distance as my life fell apart, it mattered not a single bit to me. I wished I could join them on the sidelines, too, as opposed to being in the middle of this car wreck.

With my foot firmly on the gas I forced my way into the late night traffic, barely glancing as another driver swerved to avoid the collision. His fist found the horn and a blast of angry sound blared out. I raised a finger, putting my foot down harder.

I drove for what felt like hours - the clock on the dashboard confirming my suspicion - and still nothing. Everywhere I went, the thoughts and feelings followed faithfully. I kept on, driving until the city landscape was a blurry haze in my rearview mirror and the dusty, open landscape replaced the enclosed walls of the city. The last car to pass me was over an hour ago, the road signs scarcer and scarcer. This could be the very end of the world for all I knew, the perfect place to come for the mood I was born into.

The first droplet rolled lazily down my face. At first it clung to the corner of my eye, unsure whether to retreat or advance. I let it go, pretending not to notice as it pooled on my jaw, eventually giving into gravity and falling into the abyss below. Then came another, and another after that. I held fast onto the steering wheel as I began to cry for the first time in…

It didn’t matter.

My skin felt hot and cold all at once. I wanted to peel it off, to step out of it like damp clothing and change into something fresh. Something _he_ had never touched.

And therein lay my problem. Only it wasn’t just him anymore. That stupid, dumb fuck Erwin Smith made things complicated enough. Scout made it worse. I made it even worse than that. I was the crowning glory of the shit heap.

The image of Erwin’s hand on Scout’s exposed abdomen flickered in my mind and I swerved to avoid it, pulling off the road completely in a dusty cloud. I slammed on the brakes, listening as my car protested at the rough treatment.

Flinging open the car door I leaned out, emptying the contents of my stomach - mostly nothing - onto the ground. A wave of fresh, night air hit me as I wretched, turning the drying tracks of tears on my face into ice. It was refreshing, cooling me down as I slumped into the seat, gasping for air now that I was done vomiting.

I wiped my mouth, feeling gross and unable to do anything about it. What a fucked up mess I’d gotten myself into. I should've known nothing good would come of this venture. 

Just like that, my mind teetered into territory I tried hard to avoid. As if I'd slammed my fist on the self-destruct button, she was at the forefront of my thoughts. Of course, when I thought of her, the pile of trash came along with it. 

It was a long time ago, so long it should be nothing more than a hazy memory, lapping like waves on the shore of my mind. Instead it hurled itself at my consciousness like a fucking tidal wave. Any defence I built to avoid those memories was obliterated.

In the glove compartment of my car I found an old packet of smokes I‘d been saving. I didn’t like smoking at the best of times, which is why I saved it for the worst. Packet in hand, I climbed out the car and stalked round to the hood, leaning on it as I lit the narrow stick perched between my lips. The nicotine hit my system hard. Not hard enough to erase the memories that flickered in my mind like an old, silent movie though. I could almost hear the _click, click, click_ as the reel spun around.

I let the memories come since there was little else for me to do.

 

* * *

 

The faint scent of lemon is the first thing I recall. It’s not a strong smell, nothing beyond a gentle hint of citrus that clung to my nostrils. It was accompanied by the clatter of dishes as my mother rinsed them in the sink, washing away the remnants of our meal the night before. Meal times were some of my favorite memories of that time. She would sit down at the table with me, and together we would look over my report card or whatever homework I had that night. I was nine years old and relatively intelligent for my age, and it showed in the work I produced. The only thing I really cared for was my mother’s pride in me - the rest didn’t matter.

I worked hard in school, if only to make her smile.

“I need you to go and be a good boy for a couple of hours,” Mother said, drying her hands on her apron. The dishes were finished, sitting on the draining board to dry. There were only the two, and her cup from earlier.

I knew what that meant. “You’re going to work?” She nodded at me. “But… I don’t want to go out. It’s cold.”

“And you know what that means?”

“No.” I was still sulking at the thought of going outside. That’s where she would send me, sometimes with a couple of dollars to spend at the candy store two blocks from here. The cold weather was settling in, and as the time was late afternoon it would be even colder.

“Christmas, Levi! It’ll be Christmas soon - as well as your birthday.” She bent down, pressing her slightly damp hand to my cheek. The scent of lemon was strong then, and I wrinkled my nose at it. “You’ll want lots of presents from Santa, won’t you? If you’re good for me now, I’ll tell Santa all about it.”

“Do you think he’ll get me that scooter?” I said excitedly, wiping the moisture from my cheek. I followed Mother to the front door, watching as she pulled my hat and gloves down from the hook on the wall. She helped me wriggle my fingers into the gloves, and tugged the hat down over my head.

“We’ll have to see,” she replied. With a pat to my head, I was ready to go. “Be safe, you hear?”

I hugged her, felt the way her arms squeezed me that little bit tighter. “I’ll be back later!” I called over my shoulder, hurrying out the door in my eagerness to earn a scooter. I’d seen it in a catalogue, cut it out and stuck it to my bedroom wall. Sometimes when I couldn’t sleep, I would lay listening to Mrs. Jenkin’s television, peering through the dark at the scooter. I traced the electric blue wheels with my eyes, imagining how they would look whirling around and around as I raced down the street. I’d asked Santa for it last year, but guessed he never got my letter in time. I promised myself I would definitely write to him in time this year.

I gave one last goodbye at the gate to the apartment complex, and then I was gone, darting down the street to begin that day’s adventure. There was always something to do; finding a tree to climb, a new path to explore, or even chasing imaginary bad guys down the street. Whatever burned the time until I could return home to Mother.

The wind nipped at my ears that day, and the tips of my fingers, with no regard for the woolly hat and gloves. The jacket I wore was thin, but I didn’t care for that. I ran up and down the streets, weaving in and out of people who failed to match my pace. For a kid with nowhere to go, I was sure in a hurry to get there. My overgrown hair whipped about my stinging cheeks as I fled an imagined adversary. It was my long-running arch nemesis, no less; the headless demon on horseback. I’d evaded him for sometime, yet still he chased me. I slipped down an alleyway to hide behind a pile of trash and catch my breath, waiting for the danger to pass. By that point, my nose was pink and my lips chattered from the cold. The sun was hiding behind the tall buildings, the sky dark and a little frightening. I wanted to go home - and the rumble in my tummy told me it was time.

I found my way back, not knowing how long it had been since I left. It felt like days had passed, and my growing hunger only confirmed my suspicions that I was long overdue home. I wondered what would be put on the table tonight, and secretly hoped for something I liked. Scrambled eggs on toast was a favorite of mine, especially with a generous helping of ketchup.

“Ma?” I opened the door expecting to smell dinner already cooking, and was disappointed to find no such thing. The apartment was dark and silent, no sound of Mother bustling in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. I took off my gloves and hat, dumping them on the cabinet beside the door, too short to reach up to the hook.

“Ma? Where are you?” I called out a second time, a little louder. The living room was empty, too. The television was switched off, the cushions on the couch undisturbed, no coffee cup on the table. I considered waiting for her to come back from wherever, and the remote was in my hand when I heard the noise.

It was faint, easily missed. But I heard it.

My body was frozen in place, the TV remote trembling in my hand by the time I heard it again. I held my breath, some part of me knowing that I shouldn’t have been there. I’d come home too soon and whatever was happening was not something I was supposed to know.

If I stayed, Santa wouldn’t bring me the scooter I wanted. He definitely wouldn’t if I opened her bedroom door.

My hand was on the knob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, some insight into Levi's backstory! I hope it read okay...
> 
> I would love to hear thoughts, comments, rants, suggestions, etc. So feel free to fill up my inbox with whatever you like. I look forward to reading it all and I'll see you in the next chapter...?


	44. Three In A Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -crawls out from hiding-
> 
> I... I can explain...
> 
> 1) Chief Ball Buster Editor is dealing with considerable amounts of personal stuff.  
> 2) I hired Poodle Tits as editor in the meantime.  
> 3) I moved house (again) but have now settled.  
> 4) This chapter is short. However, it's not without purpose. I couldn't make it longer without throwing in parts for no reason.  
> 5) If you're still reading this fic despite the lack of steady updates, may you find some money to treat yoself.
> 
> The Recap:  
> Eren has gone to the Corporal's apartment as requested, and discovered Erwin is also there. At the Corporal's command, Erwin and Eren engaged with each other, resulting in the Corporal swiftly leaving the room - and the apartment altogether. After insight into the Corporal's past, we join Eren as he struggles through the aftermath of the explosive encounter.

I’d seen it many times over the months. The awkward scramble to retrieve clothes thrown here and there, the hasty return of morals and modesty overshadowing all that had transpired. Never had I thought to find myself in that position, the slamming of a door forcing me to face up to what I would rather ignore. 

Erwin was calm, the only sign he was at all affected was the gentle sigh from between his lips. His breath brushed my face. He retreated from me casually, sliding backwards off the bed until he stood tall on both feet. His fingers deftly buttoned up his shirt - had I been the one to undo it, or was it him? - and then he was gone from the room, leaving me precious time alone to snap out of my daze. I could feel the heat on my cheeks as I looked down at myself. Dishevelled. I quickly pulled my shirt back down from where it bunched around my chest, buckled up my belt and checked that the zipper remained undisturbed. It was fine. Things hadn’t progressed that far. 

I ran my fingers through my hair, chasing away Erwin’s touch, and righted myself. It felt wrong to lay down on a bed that was neither mine nor his. 

“It appears he has left the apartment,” Erwin announced, reappearing at the doorway suddenly enough to make me jump. “I think this evening has come to its end.”

The slamming door. My eyes darted to the empty chair, to the space where the Corporal had been only a few seconds ago. 

“Gone?” I repeated, tasting the word as if it were foreign, “I should go after him! We can’t just let him lea-”

“Wait. There’s no use chasing him.” Erwin put his hand on my shoulder, anchoring me down to the bed. “He’ll come back when it’s out of his system. For now, let him go.”

“But-”

_ Let him go.  _ I didn’t like the sound of that. It didn’t feel right, the depth of Erwin’s advice sinking so low it was almost a warning. I didn’t want to let him go, not now, not ever. My eyes pleaded with Erwin, but he didn’t see it. He turned from me, head tilted down. He was using his phone. 

My heart thundered in my chest. “Are you calling him?”

“There’s no use in that. I’m sorting you out a ride home. I’m sure you don’t want to stay here amidst all this mess.”

How could Erwin be so… so… god damned blas é about this!? Did he not care about any of it? Did it not bother him that the Corporal was forced to leave his own apartment? Because of us?

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I can get myself home. Shouldn’t we be more worried about him?”

“He’ll be fine. Once he’s calmed himself down, he’ll talk. Right now he’s too caught up in whatever is going on in that mind of his to be reasonable.”

I wanted to be comforted by Erwin’s reassurance, the authority in his voice only making me more anxious. 

“You know him so well,” I reached for my shoes, slipped them on slowly, preoccupied with my thoughts.

“I would hope so, given I’ve known him all these years. Still, there are many things he keeps from me. He throws up a curveball every now and then, tonight being one. He keeps me on my toes - has done since our school days. For example, I didn’t know he was seeing you.”

My cheeks felt hot. My fingers fumbled with my shoelaces as I forgot how to tie them. “I-It’s not like that.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Erwin’s expression was bittersweet.

I shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, stuck between the need to leave and find the Corporal, and stay in his apartment. If Erwin spoke truly, it was only a matter of time until he came home. I wanted to be here when he did. Futile and hopeless though it was, that’s what I wanted.

“Allow me to give you this, before I forget.” Erwin reached into his back pocket and produced an envelope. He held it out for me to take. “I slipped a little extra in there as means of apology for dragging you into this mess.”

“I don’t understand it,”  I said, taking the envelope. I wasn’t interested in the contents, my arm moving out of habit rather than will. As soon as I held it, I regretted taking it at all. “Why are we  _ both _ here?”

Erwin met my gaze. “You’ve met him before now. It’s alright - I know you can’t go into details, and I won’t ask you to. What’s happened between you and him is entirely your business. I don’t know exactly what tonight was about, though I have my suspicion. It was a test.”

“What does that mean?” I tried to hide my discomfort, ruffling the hairs on the back of my neck and skimming over the fact I’d been seeing the Corporal. Erwin wasn’t stupid, he was going to know.

“Do you recall our meetings?”

“I guess.” I remembered mostly sex. Sex and long conversations. Long conversations about…  “...What about them?”

“That’s him. Do you see now? I believe he’s attempting to reconcile something by bringing us here.”

The bubble in my chest burst. The pressure was immense, bearing down on me until I struggled to breathe. The colour drained from my cheeks. I was being crushed from the inside out and all I could do was sit there and force myself to hold it together. The Corporal and Erwin. The man Erwin spent his life adoring, and loving, and working hard to gain the affections of, was none other than the Corporal. 

Like a pawn on a chess board I’d been moved into position between them. I couldn’t see the other pieces. Maybe it was just me left. Any moment now I’ll be removed from the board completely.

“Are you alright?” It was Erwin. I could hear his voice, muffled as if spoken underwater. 

I nodded, or at least, I think I did. “Yeah, fine. I just… I didn’t think you two knew each other…”

“You had no reason to. I had no reason to connect you with him, either.”

I stayed quiet at that. I guess on some level I did have a connection. Then again, had it all been to advance the game, to reach the end goal? Erwin?

“You really ought to be getting home now. Would you like me to book you a cab?” Erwin’s cell was in his hand, the glow illuminating his face, the shadows hiding in the depths of his features flickering.

“No, it’s… it’s okay.” I stood up, once I was sure my legs would hold me. “I’ll get myself home from here.”

“Are you certain?” He looked up from his phone, “It’s late and no trouble for me. I could even take you there myself, if you’d like.”

“I’m used to it. I could do with stretching my legs after all this.” 

Erwin’s eyes scrunched up as though he’d smelt something unpleasant. “You should be more careful when you’re out late at night. Anything can happen out there, no matter how nice a neighbourhood appears.”

“I can take care of myself, alright.” I wasn’t overly listening to the advice he was giving. I was listening to the voice in the back of my head, whispering memories of Erwin and the sincere way he’d opened his heart to me. They knew each other all this time. He was as in love with the Corporal as I was. And only one of us was going to walk away from this intact. Erwin was charming and handsome and sweet. He was a good match for the Corporal. Myself, on the other hand, had nothing to offer.

I made it the doorway, turning back to wave Erwin goodbye. “I guess this is it. I, uh, hope things work out for you.”

He nodded, watching me carefully. “Me too.”

The air was cold, biting into my cheeks and nipping the tips of my fingers. I was standing on the sidewalk, the door to the Corporal’s apartment building closing behind me. The hinges squeaked and whined, calling out to me to grab the handle before it closed completely. 

My numb fingers twitched. I watched the glass door slowly slide into place.  _ Click.  _

That was that. There was no turning back now. All that was left for me to do was walk away. Walk away, go home, forget about it all.

If only I could do that. 

The Corporal was out there, somewhere, beneath the same sky as me. Wherever he was, he’d taken my heart with him. The gaping hole in my chest was evidence enough, if not the pain that resonated in me with every passing thought that carried his face, his  _ voice _ . 

I didn’t want my heart back. It could come to me limping, losing a shard of itself with every broken step until finally it got to me, until there was nothing of it left to give. I’d die happy knowing the Corporal had it for awhile. Is this… how Erwin felt? Is this how he’d lived his life for all those years?

It hurts. Oh fuck, it hurts so bad. 

I couldn’t give up on him. The whole time Erwin was fighting, I would fight too. Though it may be catastrophic for me in the end, I had to see it through. One way or another. 

Win or lose. 

I had to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's another chapter done.
> 
> I hope you can see why it's brief and don't mind it too much. I simply do not want to cram content in where it doesn't belong for the sake of a numbered target. The chapter is as long as it needed to be.
> 
> I hope to get the next one out to you all soon. You can always hit me up on tumblr if you're interested in seeing progress updates!
> 
> Finally, please send me your thoughts, comments, wailings, etc. I love reading them all.


	45. Internecine Strife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> RECAP (for those who don't want to read my rambling)  
> Levi left Erwin and Eren alone in his apartment after the failed threesome. Eren realises their connection to each other and struggles to reconcile his own feelings towards them both, unsure of where he fits in to the picture - if anywhere at all. He resolves to fight for the Corporal's affections, win or lose.
> 
> RAMBLING
> 
> As usual I want to begin by apologising. 
> 
> Both my editors are now out of action due to personal reasons, meaning this chapter is, at best, only partially edited by someone other than myself. I'm no good at editing my own work so I apologise in advance. I would like to come back to this chapter at a later date, once I've found someone to help me. But for now, simply because I don't want you all waiting for too long (I will explain after the chapter my circumstances), I've decided to post it as it is.
> 
> If anyone would like to help me edit though I'd be ever so grateful. In the meantime, I apologise if this is a bit rough. I really am so sorry.

My resolution… was easier said than done.

I sent texts. When the silence was too loud, I called. My hands shook as the dial tone came over the receiver, as lifeless as a flat line.  I only knew my own heart was still beating by the fierce ramming on my ribcage.  _ Thump, thump, thump _ . Would it ever stop? Probably. If he answered the phone I knew it definitely would. 

I was still desperate to hear his voice. I needed to know he was alright, to hear his tongue wrap around the names he called me in the absence of my actual name. I wished I’d told him it in that moment, wished I’d heard him say  _ Eren _ , to see if it sounded the same as it had in my fantasies. They were all I had left.

Two weeks passed and  _ nothing _ . I should’ve been worried over my grades, but all I could think of was him. I wondered if Erwin was having better luck, if the lights had only gone out for me. For all I knew it was already over. They’d shacked up together, and me? I’d fallen off the radar completely.

I slammed my fist down on the canteen table, startling the lunch goers as the cutlery clattered, alerting everyone in the vicinity to my temper.

“Eren…?” Armin asked, watching me slowly lose my shit. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, course. I just… I was just squishing a bug.” I laughed his concern off and pretended to wipe my hand on a napkin. _ I’m a fucking idiot.  _ That was fast becoming my slogan.

I was still reeling from the phone call I’d received earlier. My legs couldn’t move me fast enough, not caring that I was in the middle of a class. I didn’t really need to be around anyway, ignoring the protest of my teacher as I hurried to answer the call. To my dismay, it was Mikasa. I’d tried to hide my disappointment, thanking her as she wished me well for results day. After that, my phone fell back into silence. Currently it was face up on the table in front of me, right where my plate of food should have been. I wasn’t hungry. 

“You’re being worse than usual.” Jean picked up his fork, shifting through the various greens on his plate. 

“Thanks for noticing.” I murmured, trapping my fingers in my hair. My eyes were fixed on the black screen of my phone, willing it to light up and ring. I’d give my left kidney for  _ Corporal _ to flash up in black letters, a bright green caller button flashing eagerly. 

It stayed blank. I considered giving my right kidney, too.

“I’m going home.” I declared, reaching for my bag. 

“What? Wait, Eren. I’ll give you a lift-” Armin got to his feet, stopping as I held my hand out.

“No, I could do with the walk. It’ll clear my head.”

“Are you sure?” He pushed.

“Mhm. Catch you guys later.” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I sauntered out of the cafeteria. I could feel Armin and Jean watching me as I went, could almost hear their lowered voices talking with concern. I wanted to tell them I was alright, but how could I when the words weren’t there? 

The walk home was longer than I expected. The weather was fair and pleasant and not at all uncomfortable for a stroll, and most of all it gave me the time and space to order my thoughts.

If I could get a hold of myself for long enough, that is. Everytime I tried to open the door to that part of my mind another part of me slammed it shut. I knew I was scared of what was behind it, what truths I didn’t want to face lurked in the darkness. I’d eventually have to face up to it all. Maybe today wasn’t going to be that day. Tomorrow might be better after all.

I pulled my keys out my pocket and unlocked my door. Once inside I headed straight to bed, my body heavy from the luggage I was dragging around inside my mind. 

 

* * *

 

 

I was woken up by my phone.

Two calls in a single day, though this time my eagerness to answer was offset by grogginess. 

Hange. 

Was the tiny pang in my chest disappointment?

“Hey, Hange.” I pressed the phone to my ear, snuggling back down into the warmth of my covers. In only an hour of laying here, I’d made an incredibly warm cocoon for myself. Perfect, given the dreary day slowly passing by outside. Speckles of rain still lingered on the window like translucent gemstones, glinting in the low light and catching my eye. It was later than I thought, the evenings darker now that winter was upon us.

“Eren, hi. Uh… Are you busy right now?” They asked.

I contemplated lying. I contemplated the thought of telling them I was busy doing something, but in order for that to work I had to know what it was I wasn’t doing. “No, I’m just lazing around.”

“Okay good. Can you pop by the office in the next… say… half an hour?”

“Sure.” I replied. “I’ll be right over. Is something the matter?”

Hange paused, and when they finally spoke, their tone was guarded. “We have some things I need to talk to you about.”

The call ended, the screen turning as grey as the weather. I’d be out in that shitty evening storm in the next ten minutes, I reminded myself glumly, all the while my bed becoming  a thousand times warmer. 

Hange’s office, huh? Not our usual meeting place. In fact, I only recall having been there for little more than my interview. Maybe they’d gotten themselves banned from every coffee shop in the area. Maybe they fancied a change of location for our meeting, I didn’t know. The only way I was going to find out was to haul my ass out of bed, something I was now in the process of doing.

The cold air was nipping at me as I hurriedly changed my shirt and added a jacket over that. My phone buzzed with a message from Hange; a cab was imminently due at my place, prepaid. Fine by me. I grabbed my keys and left the house as it pulled up.

I couldn't remember what Hange's office space looked like. It wasn't anything like this, though. The cab had pulled up outside a small, red brick building nestled amongst a series of more modern looking properties. The world changed, with new ways of constructing invented and implemented all around, and yet this one building stood firm against its newer brothers and sisters. It refused to adapt and it refused to be replaced. Not the kind of place I would normally associate with Hange, who was stood waiting for me outside the entrance.

“Thanks for dropping by on short notice, Eren.” They said.

“No problem. This place different?” I asked, gesturing to the building curiously.

Hange nodded. “Yeah, I must have forgotten to tell you. I upgraded a few months back. Please, come inside.”

I followed Hange through a heavy wooden door, into a long and narrow corridor. We walked single file, the passage far from wide enough for us both; even my shoulders grazed the walls as we made our way through. At least it was shelter from the bitterness outside, I mused. I was no fan of cold weather. I liked the sun, the warmth of lazy summer days, the freedom granted to wear whatever I wanted. The winter restricted that freedom, forced me to wear thicker clothes and more layers. That, and the days were shorter, darker, and somehow more miserable. I just didn't like winter.

“Thanks again for coming by,” Hange was saying, opening a second door and gesturing me inside. I stepped over the threshold and into their new office space, my eyes drifting over the furnishings. It was a little bigger than the last space they occupied, and surprisingly organised, with files lined neatly on a bookshelf and the desk mostly clear. Except for one singular file. I had a funny suspicion I knew who it belonged to.

Taking the seat offered to me, I slumped down and did my best to look as casual as possible. I wasn't feeling it, not any more, but I had to fake it.

Hange looked weirdly authoritarian as they sat down opposite, behind their neat desk, the glare of the computer monitor reflecting off their glasses. They folded their hands in front of them, on top of the black file.

“You... didn't call me out here to admire your new digs, did you?” I asked.

“...No, Eren. I'm afraid it's slightly more serious than that. I'll cut right to the chase – what the hell has been going on between you and your clients?”

“No more than usual.” My mouth felt dry. “Has someone complained?”

“That’s not quite true. I like you Eren, I always have liked you. You’re an honest guy, right? Because of that, I’m going to give you a chance to tell me the truth. Is there anything I should know about? Anything at all? Think very carefully about your answer.”

If my mouth felt dry before, it was positively in a draught by this point. The chair I was sitting on was a thousand times more uncomfortable, to the point it may as well be made of spikes that poked directly into my ass. I shuffled, attempting to get comfortable on the plastic. 

“Eren…” Hange prompted.

“I… I don’t know what to tell you.”

“The truth is  a good place to start. That’s all I am asking you for.”

I thought of the promise me and the Corporal made. Our pact was between us, our own secret. We promised to keep our appointments a secret, for neither one of us to tell. I know he wouldn’t break his promise. I knew that, as surely as my heart beat in my chest, I knew that. Even so, I didn’t know what else Hange could be referring to. It was serious enough to bring me to here, and not a random coffee shop. 

No, there was no way the Corporal ratted me out. 

Was there?

“Hange, I honestly don’t know what you’re trying to dig out of me.” I spread open my palms, staring down at the emptiness as I showed them that there was truly nothing. Their sigh disturbed me; I’d never seen Hange as anything other than lighthearted, bubbly and exciteable. This change was unwelcome, and I didn’t know how to react to them in that moment.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” They said leaning forward, fingers interlocked in front of their face. Their voice was low, and it haunted me in every corner of my mind. “I really thought better of you, Eren. Perhaps I was wrong.”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean…”

“You’ve been seeing clients behind my back, Eren. At least one that I know of, goodness knows how many others. I wanted to give you a chance to tell me yourself, but I seem to have been overestimating you.”

“Hange, I-”

“No, Eren. Your chance to own up has passed. Now you deal with the consequences.”

I swallowed anything I might have said, and believe me, it was difficult to get down. So they really did know what had been going on.  _ Shit. _

Whatever came next wasn’t likely to be good for me. 

“One of the golden rules of working for me was not to take on private clients. I didn’t expect you to do it, Eren. I wish you hadn’t, in fact.  _ God _ , why did you do it?”

“...I don’t know…”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter, but it would be nice to know your reasoning.”

“I don’t remember how it came about, Hange. It just… it just did.” I said.

“You’re an idiot.” They sighed. 

“I know.”

“You know something, then. That’s good.” They paused, looking over the rims of their glasses at me squirming in my seat like a child seconds from the naughty corner. “This is only going to end one way from here, Eren. My policies are strict, and with good reason; they’re designed to protect you from harm and essentially, from being exploited. Although I know the guy you’re involved with, it doesn’t excuse the breach in trust between  _ us _ . Do you understand that?”

I nodded. I wanted to nod so hard I knocked some sense back into myself. Instead, all I could feel was the empty space rattling around. I was a fucking idiot. I’d gambled and lost. 

Hange placed their hand on top of the file, snapping my attention to it. “This is your file. It has the originals of any photos taken, as well as your personal details needed to register you,” they slid the file across the table, “Take it. Your contract here has terminated, effective immediately.”

I stared at the file in disbelief. I couldn’t move, not even lift a finger, towards the file.

“Hange, I’m… I’m sorry…” I looked up, searching their face for an ounce of forgiveness where there was undoubtedly none to be found. “Please don’t do this.”

They shook their head. “I’m sorry, Eren, but you’ve left me no choice. If it’s any consolation I’ll be having stern words with the other party - you alone aren’t being punished.”

The change in me was sharp. I sat straighter in my chair, my heart pounding a thunderous beat at the hint of him. “Has he been in touch with you?”

For a second the stoic hold shifted, eyes widening behind their lenses with the shock of my fervor. “I’ve spoken to him.” They said.

Everything inside me twisted. My heart, my lungs, my stomach. My head flipped with the same sensation that falling gives you, a sense of everything rushing in and out all at once. I gripped the desk to steady myself, not having realised I’d stood up out of my chair in a rush.

It was true. He’d been the one to tell Hange. I’d been a fucking fool to let him do that to me. They were friends, weren’t they? Hange and the Corporal. Made sense for them to side with him over me. I was the expendable, replaceable party in all situations it seemed. 

With that, my despair boiled over into anger.

“Eren… is there something I should know about you two?” Hange asked.

I shook my head. A bad idea that was. The room swirled around me a second time, and my grip on the desk wavered. I was fighting to hold it together, to hold myself upright and coherent. He’d broken his promise. He’d broken the vow of silence and put my financial situation into jeopardy. Yet, at the mention of his existence, my strings were yanked and I was ready to play my part as a useless puppet, spineless without him. “No. There’s nothing to know. I just… let myself get too involved. Now I’m paying the price.” I spat, and when I found the strength to stand on my own two feet, I swiped the file off the desk. 

He was definitely avoiding me. He’d dobbed me in, and been a coward in avoiding me. All this after the shit he pulled with Erwin? He was an asshole, a total dick and I was completely done with this bullshit. Fuck him. Fuck all of this. 

I headed for the door. “Thanks, Hange. For all you’ve done for me. I’m sorry it ended like this.” 

“You were one of the best Eren. If either of us are sorry, it’s me.”

I bit my lip. There was nothing left for us to say to each other. I held my file up in some kind of weird salute, and left their office. It was my first, and my last time in the building.

Outside I took a few seconds to myself. I breathed in the chill air, let it freshen my body from the inside, and thought about what the fuck I was going to do next. Honestly, I didn’t have a clue. I’d never planned for a time when I wouldn’t be working for Hange, and despite the fact I was holding what was essentially my contract in my hands, it hadn’t sunk in yet that I wasn’t still employed. I was too focused on the reason behind today’s visit; the Corporal’s betrayal of my trust. 

I’d foolishly thought better of him. Did I mention that he’s an asshole? Because he is. The pair of them were - I hope they’re happy, knowing they’d destroyed the stability in my life. It wasn’t just that they’d brought to ruins, though. The pain in my chest and the stinging in my eyes was proof that the damage ran so much deeper than that. I should’ve known better, from the very beginning it had disaster written all over it. Still, I wanted to believe it wouldn’t end badly for us. I was an idiot.

God damn, I was a fucking idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. As I said, both my editors are dealing with personal issues and now I am facing upheaval, too. I don't want to go into it too much and end up playing my violin, but in short my future is a little unstable and I'm not entirely sure where I'm going to be staying.
> 
> Regardless, I will do my best to keep this story limping along to it's natural end and I humbly thank everyone who has supported this steadily growing mess so far.
> 
> If you would like to shoot the breeze and whatnot, now that I no longer have tumblr, I offer my discord. Haa. Come say hi?
> 
> Old and Salty As Fuck#0406


	46. Resignation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SHORT. It's also UNEDITED. Except for the meagre attempt I have just made.
> 
> I hope the fact that I am updating this twice in a one week period appeases all those grievances...
> 
> Previously:  
> Eren's been fired by Hange for breaching the contract. Meanwhile, Levi is facing the fallout of his failed plan.

“You don’t have to do this.” 

I barely heard his soft plea over the sound of my own thoughts. It was becoming increasingly loud inside my head, the noise waning as I registered Erwin’s presence. I’d known he was coming, I could feel the air moving all the way from his office.

“It’s what I need.”

Erwin exhaled the breath he’d been keeping, closing the door to my office behind him. He was on the wrong side, still talking, still pleading to the softer side of my nature he knew was there, somewhere. “Levi. We have to talk.”

On top of my desk was my briefcase, open wide like a maw waiting to be fed my important documents. I tossed them inside as I found them, sifting through draws and unceremoniously slamming them shut as I emptied out the contents. I didn’t have much in this office despite all the years I’d worked here. It made packing up all the more easier.

“All my current progress for the campaign has been emailed to you. Urd is in charge in my absence, he’s been briefed and knows the plan,” I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, my eyes scanning the room for traces of anything I may have forgotten, “That should be everything we need to talk about.” I said, leveling my gaze on him.

He was standing by the door, barely a step further in than he had to be. His hands were hanging uselessly by his sides, his body rigid and perfectly still as if awaiting to address an army.  I found it amusing, how even as our worlds were crashing down around us, he still couldn’t let go anymore than I could. 

“Levi. I can’t stop you from taking a break if that is what you need. Can you reassure me that is, in fact, a break? I don’t want the last time I see you to be… like this.”

My jaw clenched. I was fighting within myself, weighing up how much damage I needed to inflict to get out of that door and out of this fish bowl. All around Erwin were the shifting eyes of my team, all of them catching nervous glances in this direction. I didn’t blame them for it, it was human nature to be curious, but I wasn’t keen on being the subject of their wandering eyes.

“This isn’t going to go away,” Erwin warned, “I’m not going to go away.”

“We really going to do this here?” I asked. “Alright. I’ll put you out of your misery, since I’m mostly the cause of it all, right? I can’t do this. Whatever  _ this _ is or it was, I’m not doing it. There’s no ‘getting better’. I should have said it sooner.”

Erwin’s lips turned inwards, a forced smile. “You were saying it all along, Levi. We both know that. That doesn’t come as much of a surprise after recent events,” he paused, watching my face carefully, “I’m coming to you from the position of a friend. Don’t close yourself off.”

I laughed, hollow and empty. “How can you be so… so fucking perfect?”

“I’m sorry?”

I shook my head, throwing my hands up. “Get angry, get upset - something!  _ Anything _ .” 

My heart beat erratically, my breathing laboured as I stood and waited for it to happen. I wanted to see Erwin Smith break through that wall he kept around himself, wanted to see the secrets he kept from me, wanted to see the real truth of who he was. I wanted him to get angry at me, to berate me, to hate me even for a second, over the things I’d done. A crack in his veneer - that was all I was asking for.  I waited.

When I could see it wasn’t going to happen, I dragged my briefcase off the desk and slung my jacket over my shoulder. “If you… can’t even show me, how do you expect me to be able to feel anything in return?”

Erwin nodded once, slowly, the information sinking in. The truth we’d both been hiding from was now laid out for all to see, and it was fucking ugly. No taking it back now. 

I steeled myself against the onrushing hurt, pushing it aside in order to get done what had to be done. I didn’t like that it had taken so many years to come out, that it had taken so many years for me to finally put my finger on what the problem was. It took a stupid boy with an even stupider smile to make me realise, and now that I knew, it was too late.

The tea Petra made upon my arrival was cold, having never made it to my lips in the first place. Despite my week long absence from work, she asked no questions as I’d come in late afternoon, instead bustling about to bring me a tea. The rest made themselves look busy at their desks, Oluo going so far as to pick up a phone that had no one at the other end. I would miss their quirks, their each and individual quirks.

Without a word, I opened the door to my office, stepping around Erwin. I knew what needed to happen next, now that things had come to this. Still, it was no easy task.

“Petra, Oluo. Gunther, Eld,” I began, looking at them each in turn. “I trust you all know what is expected of you in the near future. I have every faith that you will all do your part to make the campaign a success. If you have any questions or concerns, direct them to Erwin. With that, I hereby terminate my employment at Colossal.”


	47. The Lowest Of The Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been... a hectic couple of months. I've had no internet, I've been homeless and I've been in for surgery. I'm in recovery, and have a few weeks off. Today is the first day I have felt well enough and I am determined to bring this story out.
> 
> This chapter has been edited by me, but since I don't currently have a proofer it may be rough in places. I hope you'll like it anyway and continue to support me. Even after several months of silence, I hope you'll come back to enjoy my work.

 

I was leaning against a wall, trying my hardest to look like I belonged there while also drawing as little attention to myself as possible. It was a difficult balance to strike and I had no way of telling my success rate, satisfied that at the very least no one was staring in my direction. There wasn’t anyone but me on this lonely sidewalk. A quick look at my phone told me I’d been stood here for thirty minutes already without so much as a single passerby.

Over the silhouettes of unknown buildings I could hear the thrum of nighttime traffic, and listening closer, I thought I heard the rumble of an engine crawling slowly along. I waited for the headlights to round the corner and illuminate me, growing puzzled as it never came to pass. The sound of the engine faded away and I found myself breathing hard in its absence. This was scarier than I imagined it to be, and I only became aware of my nervousness when the prospect of what I planned to do was the next street over, not a hazy dumb ass idea at two a.m.

Hange fired me a month ago. I’d not heard from the Corporal, or Erwin, and felt as though I was living in a strange, dreamlike state since that time. Nothing was quite real, the fragile illusion of stability easily shattered if I pressed too hard. I was waiting to drop out the bottom in the darkness underneath, the bubble bursting. It never did.

Instead, I was here, doing things myself. 

I could go to a bar. Pick myself up a cute drunk, let him take me home. I’m confident it wouldn’t take long, I’d be tucked back up in my own bed by dawn. I’d chosen option two, an alleyway. Classy. I scuffed my shoe on the sidewalk to kick the negativity away from my mind. I was doing this to prove a point. I didn’t need any help, a manager, a child minder. I was capable of making money on the back of my looks, no appointments necessary. I felt the fire of determination in my blood, chasing the doubt away. This was the oldest profession in history, right? I had no room for second guessing. 

I looked up startled as bright beams of light hit me, casting me under a blinding spotlight. I shielded my eyes, trying to peer through to the driver as he crawled around the corner. My first opportunity to make myself a success was here.

The car prowled like a cat in the night, crouched low and silently advancing towards an unsuspecting mouse. I could feel those anonymous eyes on me, watching, judging.

The car rolled to a gradual stop, the breaks letting out a squeak. He liked what he saw.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little afraid. I felt the tremor in my knees as I lurched forward, taking the first tentative steps towards the car, the window rolling down as I approached. 

The fuck do I say? _ Come here often? Looking for someone? Hey, cowboy? _

I sucked a deep breath between my teeth and leant down to the open window, trying hard not to force the casual attitude I was forcing. 

“Hey,” I think my voice croaked.

“Get in.” He said, not looking at me.

Not the most romantic of first encounters. 

I reached down, opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat. I left the real me on the sidewalk, a shadow of who I am now. I didn’t look back as my new friend hit the gas.

He was older. Older than any I’d had before. His belly filled the space between the steering wheel and his seat, his face round under the heavy, neatly trimmed beard. He squinted out from behind a small pair of lenses, eyes intent on the road. He carried himself with a confidence that I knew without a doubt this wasn’t his first time around the block.

“Haven’t seen you around.” The guy starts up a conversation, driving casually along into the traffic as if this were the most normal way to spend an evening. “You must be new.” As I suspected, he was an old hand at this. 

“I’m new to the area.” I said tactfully.

“Really? A lucky find.” 

For me, or for him? I couldn’t help but feel the odds were more in his favour. I didn’t find him remotely attractive, but then it wasn’t for me to be picky. Hange rarely secured me guys that appealed to me anyway. At least they made me feel safe.

No one was waiting for me to confirm I was alright after this.

My mouth was dry. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him. We drove in silence a short distance away, the roads growing emptier as we passed through. Our destination? An old, unused complex of warehouses. The wheels crunched over loose stones and hobbled over potholes as my companion searched for a suitable place to stop. 

The place was deserted except for us. No lights illuminated the parking bays. It was completely dark as the engine cut off, the headlights fading and leaving sparks flying across my vision.  The keys jingled in the lock as he shuffled his chair back a few inches, his hand already massaging at his groin languidly. He was looking at me with his small eyes, his breathing growing ragged with excitement.

“Suck me off.” 

A jolt of panic bolted through me. I considered grabbing the handle and running, but where to? I had no idea where I was. I’d sucked on numerous dicks in my lifetime, why should this one be any different?

The environment for a start. No well lit hotel room with comfortable bedding and glamorous views. If I screamed, no one would hear me. There was no shower or basin to rinse my mouth in, for him to wash his junk. I could only hope as I pulled down his zipper, carefully over the thick bulge, that he was at least clean. Something about the unbuttoned white shirt he wore and dark grey pants told me he’d recently been at work. I could faintly smell the lingering traces of body spray, thinly masking the layer of sweat underneath.

I groped at his member through his pants, gingerly rubbing him. My intention was to bring him nearer to climax with my hand as possible, limiting the use of my mouth. 

“That feels good,” he sighed, relaxing in his seat as I massaged at his cock. I took no pleasure in the reassurance he was enjoying it. I was simply doing what I had to.

Impatiently his fingers found their way to the back of my neck, and he angled me down, pressing my face to his crotch. He was eager to get on with this while I still hesitated. “Put your mouth on me, boy.” He murmured hoarsely. 

His cock didn’t smell bad as I took it out. I gave it a few more strokes with my hand and, licking my lips for moisture, sunk my mouth over his girth. Eyes clenched tightly shut as I tasted him, I moved my head gradually along his length, feeling the tickle of his pubic hairs on my nose as they poked free of his underwear. When he was deep in my throat all I could smell was raw masculinity. I was suffocating on it as he held me there, letting out a low groan of satisfaction as my throat constricted around him. My gagging only made him more excited, his cock swelling in my mouth and filling me even more. 

He let me up and i gasped desperately for air, saliva bridging thickly between my open mouth and his glistening tip. 

“That’s it. You’ve got a good mouth on you.” He pushed me down a second time, but didn’t hold me. His hand exerted a pressure and nothing more, reminding me subtly he was in control every second. My head bobbed up and down, my cheek rubbing on the round protrusion of his belly. He guided me into a rhythm that suited him, holding me down when the mood took him. My stomach lurched as I struggled around him, drooling copiously. 

I knew my throat would be sore in the morning. There was nothing I could do but take it, my hand gripping his knee whenever it became too much.  All the while I could hear his grunts and encouragements over the sound of my blood roaring in my ears. I choked and gurgled, he moaned and said, “Fuck yeah. Just like that. Your throat is so tight I love it. Don’t puke on me, boy. Take it all now, good, like that.” His fingers gripped my hair, pinching my scalp as he forced my head up and down like a toy, oblivious to my discomfort. His breaths were catching, his hips lifting - he was close. A new panic struck me. Would he want me to swallow his load? Would it be better on my face, in my hair? How was I going to wash it off?

I didn’t think that part through until now, when it was far too late to do anything about it. He was hurtling towards a climax spurred on by my thrashing for air, his tip knocking deep into my throat and then…

Tears streaked my face as his cum shot down my throat, burning as it escaped into my empty stomach. He groaned loudly, gasping in pleasure as he pumped yet more into me. 

“Fuck!” He yelled breathlessly, ignoring me completely as his climax slowly subsided.  

It was over.

I reeled back into my seat, coughing and dragging precious air into my lungs. My cheeks were stained with tears, my chin coated in drool and semen. 

My reliable source of income was gone. Yesterday as I walked around grocery shopping, filling my cart with this and that, it hit me that one day soon I would have no means to pay for any of this. There was no reprieve, no last minute call of forgiveness from Hange to save me from the thought kicking around the back of my head. Standing staring at the breakfast cereals I formed a plan. I knew where I could go, I knew where in the city the notorious restricted clubs hid their dirty secrets from polite society. I knew where the girls in their short skirts and bikini tops gathered under lamp posts, cooing to drivers and exaggerating their wares to gain business. That’s how I got myself here, but the thought in my head was starkly different from the reality. 

I never imagined I’d be choked on a stranger’s dick, a man older than my own dad, his balls emptied in their entirety into me. He was cleaning his cock off with a rag, pulled out from the pocket in the side of the door. His dick was already limp, shrivelling grossly as he mopped away at it. The way he looked over at me was as though he’d forgotten I’d even existed. Satisfied he was presentable, he stuffed his spent member in his pants and zipped himself up, fishing for his wallet out of his back pocket.

I brightened at the sight of money. This was what made it worth it, this is what I imagined as I picked the chocolate loops from the shelf and dropped them in my cart. I would be earning money, a decent wage, nothing had really changed.

He handed a fistful of carefully counted notes towards me. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked, seeing the expression on my face.

“...This is forty dollars.”

“I know it is, I just counted it. I included a bit extra since you did a good job.”

My mouth dropped, no sound coming. 

“Look, I need you to get out now. I have to get home to my wife and I’m already late.”

“W-what?”

“Out. We’re done here.” 

“I don’t even know where you’ve driven me!” 

“Start walking then. I’m sure you’ll find your way somewhere soon enough with a pretty mouth like that.”He cupped my chin briefly, letting go as I slapped his hand away.

I pushed the car door open and stepped out, slamming it all too hard behind me. He wasted not a minute driving off, cussing out the window at me as he sped off. 

Clutching my measly forty dollars, the grand prize of my efforts, alone in the parking lot and with the bitter taste of his salty fluid clinging to my tongue like acid, I felt wretched.

As tears pricked at my eyes I dialled the only number of the only person I knew who would help me. 

He sounded groggy as he answered. “Eren?”

“Armin,” I tried to hide my emotional distress, swallowing it down as best I could, “I… I need you to come pick me up.”

I heard the rustle of bed clothes, imagined him sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s Eren. Hold on, Jean - what do you mean you don’t know where you are?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and if you have any thoughts or comments, please feel free to express them.
> 
> Though I can't promise another update soon this story isn't abandoned. I'm still working on it every chance I get and I hope to be updating again in a few weeks. Please, I know I've said it a lot but please be patient with me. I am doing my best despite what life is throwing at me.
> 
> I love you all. See you next time!


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